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DENZIL    QUARRIER 


DENZIL    QUARRIER 


BY 

GEORGE    GISSING 

AUTHOR  OF   "  DEMOS,"  ETC. 


Nero  13ork 
MAC  MILL  AN    AND    CO 

AND     LONDOIf 

1892 


All  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  1891, 

BY 

MACMILLAN   &    CO. 


ROBERT  DRUMMOND,   ELECTROTYPKR  AND  PRINTER,  NEW  YORK. 


For  half  an  hour  there  had  been  perfect  silence  in  the 
room.  The  cat  upon  the  hearthrug  slept  profoundly; 
the  fire  was  sunk  to  a  still  red  glow;  the  cold  light  of 
the  autumn  afternoon  thickened  into  dusk. 

Lilian  seemed  to  be  reading.  She  sat  on  a  footstool, 
her  arm  resting  on  the  seat  of  a  basket-chair,  wdiich 
supjDorted  a  large  open  volume.  But  her  hand  was 
never  raised  to  turn  a  page,  and  it  was  long  since  her 
eyes  had  gathered  the  sense  of  the  lines  on  which  they 
were  fixed.  This  attitude  had  been  a  favourite  one 
with  her  in  childhood,  and  nowadays,  in  her  long 
hours  of  solitude,  she  often  fell  into  the  old  habit.  It 
was  a  way  of  inviting  reverie,  Avhich  was  a  way  of 
passing  the  time. 

She  stirred  at  length;  glanced  at  the  windows,  at 
the  fire,  and  rose. 

A  pleasant  little  sitting-room,  furnislied  in  the  taste 
of  our  time;  with  harmonies  and  contrasts  of  sub- 
dued colour,  Avith  pictures  intelligently  chosen,  with 
store  of  graceful  knick-knacks,  Lilian's  person  was  in 
keeping  with  such  a  background;  her  dark  gold  hair, 
her  pale,  pensive,  youthful  features,  her  slight  figure  iu 


1698(;G 


2  DENZIL  QUAERIER 

its  loose  raiment,  could  not  have  been  more  suitably 
displayed.  In  a  room  of  statelier  proportions  she 
would  have  looked  too  frail,  too  young  for  significance; 
out  of  doors  she  was  seldom  seen  to  advantage; 
here  one  recognized  her  as  the  presiding  spirit  in  a 
home  fragrant  of  womanhood.  The  face,  at  this 
moment,  was  a  sad  one,  but  its  lines  expressed  no  weak 
surrender  to  dolefulness;  her  lips  were  courageous,  and 
her  eyes  such  as  brighten  readily  with  joy. 

A  small  table  bore  a  tea-tray  with  a  kettle  and  spirit- 
lamp;  the  service  for  two  persons  only.  Lilian,  after 
looking  at  her  watch,  ignited  the  lamp  and  then  went 
to  the  window  as  if  in  expectation  of  some  one's. arrival. 

The  house  stood  in  a  row  of  small  new  dwellings  on 
the  outskirts  of  Clapham  Common;  there  was  little 
traffic  along  the  road  at  any  time,  and  in  this  hour  of 
twilight  even  a  passing  footstep  became  a  thing  to 
notice.  Some  one  approached  on  her  side  of  the  way; 
she  listened,  but  with  disappointment;  it  was  not  the 
step  for  which  she  waited.  None  the  less  it  paused  at 
this  house,  and  she  was  startled  to  perceive  a  telegraph 
messenger  on  the  point  of  knocking.  At  once  she 
hastened  to  the  front  door. 

"Mrs.  Quarrier?"  inquired  the  boy,  holding  out  his 
missive. 

Lilian  drew  back  with  it  into  the  passage.  But  there 
was  not  light  enough  to  read  by;  she  had  to  enter  the 
sitting-room  and  hold  the  sheet  of  paper  close  to  the 
kettle-lamp. 

"  Very  sorry  that  I  cannot  get  home  before  ten. 
Unexpected  business." 

She  read  it  carefully,  then  turned  with  a  sigh  and 
dismissed  the  messenger. 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  3 

In  a  quarter  of  an  liour  she  had  made  tea,  and 
sat  down  to  take  a  cup.  The  cat,  refreshed  after 
slumber,  jumped  on  to  her  lap  and  lay  there  pawing 
playfully  at  the  trimming  of  her  sleeves.  Lilian  at 
first  rewarded  this  friendliness  only  with  absent  stroking, 
but  when  she  had  drunk  her  tea  and  eaten  a  slice  of 
bread  and  butter  the  melancholy  mood  dispersed; 
pussy's  sportiveness  was  then  abundantly  indulged,  and 
for  awhile  Lilian  seemed  no  less  merry  than  her 
companion. 

The  game  was  interrupted  by  another  knock  at  the 
house-door;  this  time  it  was  but  the  delivery  of  the 
evening  paper,  Lilian  settled  herself  in  a  chair  by  the 
fireside,  and  addressed  herself  with  a  serious  countenance 
to  the  study  of  the  freshly-printed  columns.  Beginning 
with  the  leading-article,  she  read  page  after  page  in  the 
most  conscientious  way,  often  pausing  to  reflect,  and 
once  even  to  pencil  a  note  on  the  margin.  The  paper 
finished,  she  found  it  necessary  for  the  clear  under- 
standing of  a  certain  subject  to  consult  a  book  of 
reference,  and  for  this  purpose  she  went  to  a  room  in 
the  rear — a  small  study,  comfortably  but  plainly  fur- 
nished, smelling  of  tobacco.  It  was  very  chilly,  and  she 
did  not  spend  much  time  over  her  researches. 

A  sound  from  the  lower  part  of  the  house  checked  her 
returning  steps;  some  one  was  rapping  at  the  door  down 
in  the  area.  It  happened  that  she  was  to-day  without 
a  servant;  she  must  needs  descend  into  the  kitchen 
herself  and  answer  the  summons.  When  the  nether 
regions  were  illumined  and  the  door  thrown  open, 
Lilian  beheld  a  familiar  figure,  that  of  a  scraggy  and 
wretchedly  clad  woman  with  a  moaning  infant  in  her 
arms. 


4  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

"  Oh,  it's  yoiT,  Mrs.  AVilson ! "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Please  to  come  in.  How  have  you  been  getting  on  ? 
And  how  is  baby  ?  " 

The  woman  took  a  seat  by  the  kitchen  fire,  and  began 
to  talk  in  a  whining,  mendicant  tone.  From  the  con- 
versation it  appeared  that  this  was  by  no  means  the 
first  time  she  had  visited  Lilian  and  sought  to  arouse 
her  compassion;  the  stories  she  poured  forth  consisted 
in  a  great  measure  of  excuses  for  not  having  profited 
more  substantially  by  the  help  already  given  her.  The 
eye  and  the  ear  of  experience  would  readily  enough 
have  perceived  in  Mrs.  Wilson  a  very  coarse  type  of 
impostor,  and  even  Lilian,  though  showing  a  face  of 
distress  at  what  she  heard,  seemed  to  hesitate  in  her 
replies  and  to  entertain  troublesome  doubts.  But  the 
objection  she  ventured  to  make  to  a  flagrant  inconsis- 
tency in  the  tale  called  forth  such  loud  indignation, 
such  a  noisy  mixture  of  insolence  and  grovelling  en- 
treaty, that  her  moral  courage  gave  way  and  Mrs. 
Wilson  whined  for  another  quarter  of  an  hour  in 
complete  security  from  cross-examination.  In  the  end 
Lilian  brought  out  her  purse  and  took  from  it  half- 
a-sovereign. 

"  Now,  if  I  give  you  this,  Mrs.  AVilson,  I  do  hope  to 
have  a  better  account " 

Her  admonitions  were  cut  short,  and  with  difficulty 
she  managed  to  obtain  hearing  for  a  word  or  two  of 
what  was  meant  for  grave  counsel  whilst  taking  leave 
of  her  visitor.  Mrs,  Wilson,  a  gleam  in  her  red  eyes, 
vanished  up  the  area  steps,  and  left  Lilian  to  meditate 
on  the  interview. 

The  evening  passed  on,  and  her  solitude  was  undis- 
turbed.    When  dinner-time  came,  she  sat  down  to  the 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  5 

wing  of  a  cold  chicken  and  a  thimbleful  of  claret  much 
diluted;  the  repast  was  laid  out  with  perfection  of 
neatness,  and  at  its  conclusion  she  cleared  the  table  like 
the  handiest  of  parlour-maids.  Whatever  she  did  was 
done  gracefully;  she  loved  order,  and  Avhen  alone  was 
no  less  scrupulous  in  satisfying  her  idea  of  the  becom- 
ing than  when  her  actions  were  all  observed. 

After  dinner,  she  played  a  little  on  the  piano.  Here, 
as  over  her  book  in  the  afternoon,  the  absent  fit  came 
upon  her.  Her  fingers  had  rested  idly  on  the  keyboard 
for  some  minutes,  when  they  began  to  touch  solemn 
chords,  and  at  length  there  sounded  the  first  notes  of  a 
homely  strain,  one  of  the  most  familiar  of  the  Church's 
hymns.  It  ceased  abruptly;  Lilian  rose  and  went  to 
another  part  of  the  room. 

A  few  minutes  later  her  ear  caught  the  sound  for 
which  she  was  now  waiting — that  of  a  latch-key  at  the 
front  door.  She  stepped  quickly  out  into  the  passage, 
where  the  lamp-light  fell  upon  a  tall  and  robust  man 
with  dark,  comely,  bearded  visage. 

"Poor  little  girl!"  he  addressed  her,  affectionately, 
as  he  pulled  off  his  overcoat.  "  I  couldn't  help  it,  Lily; 
bound  to  stay." 

"Never  mind! "  was  her  laughing  reply,  as  she  stood 
on  tip-toe  and  drew  down  his  face  to  hers.  "I  was 
disappointed,  but  it's  as  well  you  didn't  come  to  dinner. 
Sarah  had  to  go  away  this  morning." 

"  Oh  !  How's  that  ?  How  have  yow  managed 
then  ?  " 

They  passed  into  the  front  room,  and  Quarrier 
repeated  his  inquiries. 

"  She  had  a  letter  from  Birmingham,"  Lilian 
explained.     "Her  brother  has  been  all  but  killed  in 


6  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

some  dreadful  accident,  and  he's  in  a  hospital.  I  saw 
she  wished  to  go — so  I  gave  her  some  money  and  sent 
her  off  as  soon  as  possible.  Perhaps  it  was  her  only 
chance  of  seeing  him  alive,  Denzil." 

"Yes,  yes — of  course  you  did  right,"  he  answered, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation. 

"  I  knew  you  wouldn't  mind  a  dinner  of  my  cooking 
— under  the  circumstances." 

"  But  what  are  we  to  do  ?  You  can't  take  her  place 
in  the  kitchen  till  she  comes  back." 

"  I'll  get  some  one  for  a  few  days." 

"  But,  confound  it !  how  about  to-morrow  morning  ? 
It's  very  awkward  " 

"  Oh,  I  shall  easily  manage." 

"What? — go  down  at  eight  o'clock  and  light  fires! 
Hang  it,  no  !  All  right ;  I'll  turn  out  and  see  to 
breakfast.  But  you  must  get  another  girl ;  a  second 
servant,  I  mean.  Yes,  you  ought  really  to  have  two. 
Get  a  decent  cook." 

"Do  you  think  it  necessary  ?" 

Quarrier  was  musing,  a  look  of  annoyance  on  his  face. 

"It  couldn't  have  happened  more  inconveniently," 
he  said,  without  regard  to  Lilian's  objection.  "I  had 
better  tell  you  at  once,  Lily:  I've  asked  a  friend  of 
mine  to  come  and  dine  with  us  to-morrow." 

She  started  and  looked  at  him  with  anxious  eyes. 

"A  friend  ?'' 

"Yes;  Glazzard — the  man  who  spoke  to  me  at  Kew 
Station  the  other  day — you  remember  ?  " 

"Oh  yes!" 

Lilian  seated  herself  by  the  piano  and  stroked  the 
keys  with  the  tips  of  her  fingers.  Standing  on  the 
hearthrug,  her  companion  watched   her   closely  for  a 


DENZIL  QUAERIER  7 

moment;   his  forehead  was  wrinkled,  and  he  did  not 
seem  quite  at  ease. 

"  Glazzard  is  a  very  good  fellow/'  he  pursued,  looking 
about  the  room  and  thrusting  his  hands  into  his 
trouser-pockets.  "  I've  known  him  since  I  was  a  boy — 
a  well-read  man,  thoughtful,  clever.  A  good  musician; 
something  more  than  an  amateur  with  the  violin, 
I  believe.  An  artist,  too ;  he  had  a  bust  in  the 
Academy  a  few  years  ago,  and  I've  seen  some  capital 
etchings  of  his." 

"A  universal  genius!"  said  Lilian,  with  a  forced 
laugh. 

"Well,  there's  no  doubt  he  has  come  very  near 
success  in  a  good  many  directions.  Never  quite  suc- 
ceeded; there's  the  misfortune.  I  suppose  he  lacks 
perseverance.  But  he  doesn't  care;  takes  everything 
with  a  laugh  and  a  joke." 

He  reached  for  the  evening  newspaper,  and  glanced 
absently  over  the  columns.  For  a  minute  or  two  there 
was  silence. 

"  What  have  you  told  him  ? "  Lilian  asked  at  length, 
in  an  undertone. 

"Why,  simply  that  I  have  had  reasons  for  keeping 
my  marriage  secret." 

He  spoke  in  a  blunt, 'authoritative  way,  but  with  his 
usual  kindly  smile. 

"I  thought  it  better,"  he  added,  "after  that  chance 
meeting  the  other  day.  He's  a  fellow  one  can  trust, 
I  assure  you.  Thoroughly  good-hearted.  As  you 
know,  I  don't  readily  make  friends,  and  I'm  the  last 
man  to  give  my  confidence  to  any  one  who  doesn't 
deserve  it.  But  Glazzard  and  I  have  always  under- 
stood  each  other  pretty  well,  and — at  all  events,  he 


8  DENZIL  QtJARRIER 

knows  me  well  enough  to  be  satisfied  with  as  much  as 
I  choose  to  tell  him." 

Qnarrier  had  the  air  of  a  man  who,  without  any- 
vulgar  patronage,  and  in  a  spirit  of  abundant  good- 
nature, classifies  his  acquaintance  in  various  degrees 
of  subordination  to  himself,  lie  was  too  healthy,  too 
vigorous  of  frame  and  frank  in  manner  to  appear  con- 
ceited, but  it  was  evident  that  his  experience  of  life  had 
encouraged  a  favourable  estimate  of  his  own  standing 
and  resources.  The  ring  of  his  voice  was  sound  ;  no 
affectation  or  insincerity  marred  its  notes.  For  all 
that,  he  seemed  Just  now  not  entirely  comfortable  ; 
his  pretence  of  looking  over  the  paper  in  the  intervals 
of  talk  was  meant  to  cover  a  certain  awkwardness  in 
discussing  the  subject  he  had  broached. 

"  You  don't  object  to  his  coming,  Lily  ?  " 

"  No ;  whatever  you  think  best,  dear." 

"I'm  quite  sure  you'll  find  him  pleasant  company. 
But  we  must  get  him  a  dinner,  somehow.  I'll  go  to 
some  hotel  to-morrow  morning  and  put  the  thing  in 
their  hands;  they'll  send  a  cook,  or  do  something  or 
other.  If  the  girl  had  been  here  we  should  have 
managed  well  enough;  Glazzard  is  no  snob. — I  want 
to  smoke ;  come  into  my  study,  will  you  ?  No  fire  ? 
Get  up  some  wood,  there's  a  good  girl,  we'll  soon  set  it 
going.  I'd  fetch  it  myself,  but  I  shouldn't  know 
where  to  look  for  it." 

A  flame  was  soon  roaring  up  the  chimney  in  the 
little  back  room,  and  Quarrier's  pipe  filled  the  air  with 
fragrant  mist. 

"  How  is  it,"  he  exclaimed,  settling  in  the  arm-chair, 
"  that  there  are  so  many  beggars  in  this  region  ?  Two 
or  three  times  this  last  week  I've  been  assailed  along  the 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  9 

street.  I'll  put  a  stop  to  that;  I  told  a  great  hulking 
fellow  to-night  that  if  he  spoke  to  me  again  (it  was  the 
second  time)  I  would  take  the  trouble  of  marching  him 
to  the  nearest  police  station." 

"  Poor  creatures ! "  sighed  Lilian. 

"  Pooh !  Loafing  blackguards,  with  scarcely  an 
exception!  Well,  I  was  going  to  tell  5^ou:  Glazzard 
comes  from  my  own  town,  Polterham.  We  were  at  the 
Grammar  School  there  together;  but  he  read  ^Eschylus 
and  Tacitus  whilst  I  Avas  grubbing  over  Eutropius  and 
the  Greek  declensions." 

"  Is  he  so  much  older  then  ?     He  seemed  to  me  " 

"  Six  years  older — about  five-and-thirty.  He's  going 
down  to  Polterham  on  Saturday,  and  I  think  I  shall  go 
with  him." 

"  Go  with  him  ?     For  long  ?  " 

"  A  week,  I  think.  I  want  to  see  my  brother-in-law. 
You  won't  mind  being  left  alone  ?  " 

"  ISTo ;  I  shall  do  my  best  to  keep  in  good  spirits." 

"  I'll  get  you  a  batch  of  new  books.  I  may  as  well 
tell  you,  Liversedge  has  been  persuaded  to  stand  as 
Liberal  candidate  for  Polterham  at  the  next  election. 
It  surprised  me  rather ;  I  shouldn't  have  thought 
he  was  the  kind  of  fellow  to  go  in  for  politics.  It 
always  seemed  to  be  as  little  in  his  line  as  it  is  in 
mine." 

"  And  do  you  wish  to  advise  him  against  it  ?  " 

"  Oh  no ;  there's  no  harm  in  it.  I  suppose  Beacons- 
field  and  crew  have  roused  him.  I  confess  I  should 
enjoy  helping  to  kick  them  into  space.  No,  I  Just  want 
to  talk  it  over  with  him.  And  I  owe  them  a  visit ; 
they  took  it  rather  ill  that  I  couldn't  go  with  them  to 
Ireland." 


10  DENZIL  QUAKRIER 

Lilian  sat  with  bent  head.  Casting  a  quick  glance  at 
her,  Quarrier  talked  on  in  a  cheerful  strain. 

"I'm  afraid  he  isn't  likely  to  get  in.  The  present 
member  is  an  old  fogey  called  Welwyn-Baker  ;  a  fat- 
headed  Tory ;  this  is  his  third  Parliament.  They  think 
he's  going  to  set  wp  his  son  next  time — a  fool,  no  doubt, 
but  I  have  no  knowledge  of  him.  I'm  afraid  Liversedge 
isn't  the  man  to  stir  enthusiasm." 

"  But  is  there  any  one  to  be  made  enthusiastic  on  that 
side  ?  "  asked  Lilian. 

"  AVell,  it's  a  town  that  has  changed  a  good  deal  of 
late  years.  It  used  to  be  only  an  agricultural  market, 
but  about  twenty  years  ago  a  man  started  a  blanket 
factory,  and  since  then  several  other  industries  have 
shot  up.  There's  a  huge  sugar-refinery,  and  a  place 
where  they  make  jams.  That  kind  of  thing,  you  know, 
affects  the  spirit  of  a  place.  Manufacturers  are  gene- 
rally go-ahead  people,  and  mill-hands  don't  support 
high  Tory  doctrine.  It'll  be  interesting  to  see  how 
they  muster.  If  Liversedge  knows  how  to  go  to 
work" — he  broke  into  laughter.  "  Suppose,  when  the 
time  comes,  I  go  down  and  harangue  the  mob  in  his 
favour  ?  " 

Lilian  smiled  and  shook  her  head. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  would  be  calling  them  '  the  mob '  to 
their  faces." 

"  Well,  why  not  ?  I  dare  say  I  should  do  more  that 
way  than  by  talking  fudge  about  the  glorious  and 
enlightened  people.  *  Look  here,  you  blockheads ! '  I 
should  shout,  '  can't  you  see  on  which  side  your  interests 
lie  ?  Are  you  going  to  let  England  be  thrown  into  war 
and  taxes  just  to  please  a  theatrical  Jew  and  the  howling 
riff-raff  of  London  ? '     I  tell  you  what,  Lily,  it  seems  to 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  11 

me  I  could  make  a  rattling  good  speech  if  I  gave  my 
mind  to  it.     Don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  There's  nothing  you  couldn't  do/'  she  answered, 
with  soft  fervour,  fixing  her  eyes  upon  him. 

"And  yet  I  do  nothing — isn't  that  what  you  would 
like  to  add?" 

"  Oh,  but  your  book  is  getting  on ! " 

"Yes,  yes;  so  it  is.  A  capital  book  it'll  be,  too;  a 
breezy  book — smelling  of  the  sea-foam !  But,  after  all, 
that's  only  pen-work.  I  have  a  notion  that  I  was 
meant  for  active  life,  after  all.  If  I  had  remained  in 
the  Navy,  I  should  have  been  high  up  by  now.  I 
should  have  been  hoping  for  war,  I  dare  say.  What 
possibilities  there  are  in  every  man ! " 

He  grew  silent,  and  Lilian,  her  face  shadowed  once 
more,  conversed  with  her  own  thoughts. 


II 


In  a  room  in  the  west  of  London — a  room  full  of 
pictures  and  bric-a-brac,  of  quaint  and  luxurious 
furniture,  with  volumes  abundant,  with  a  piano  in 
a  shadowed  corner,  a  violin  and  a  mandoline  laid 
carelessly  aside — two  men  sat  facing  each  other,  their 
looks  expressive  of  anything  but  mutual  confidence. 
The  one  (he  wore  an  overcoat,  and  had  muddy  boots) 
was  past  middle  age,  bald,  round-shouldered,  dressed 
like  a  country  gentleman;  upon  his  knees  lay  a  small 
hand-bag,  which  he  seemed  about  to  open.  He  leaned 
forward  with  a  face  of  stern  reproach,  and  put  a  short, 
sharp  question: 

"Then  why  haven't  I  heard  from  you  since  my 
nephew's  death  ?  " 

The  other  was  not  ready  with  a  reply.  Younger,  and 
more  fashionably  attired,  he  had  assumed  a  lounging 
attitude  which  seemed  natural  to  him,  though  it  served 
also  to  indicate  a  mood  of  resentful  superiority.  His 
figure  was  slight,  and  not  ungraceful;  his  features — 
pale,  thin,  with  heavy  nose,  high  forehead — were 
intellectual  and  noteworthy,  but  lacked  charm. 

"  I  have  been  abroad  till  quite  recently,"  he  said  at 
length,  his  fine  accent  contrasting  with  that  of  the 


DBNZIL  QUARRIER  13 

questioner,  which  had  a  j)rovincial  note.  "Why  did 
you  expect  me  to  communicate  with  you  ? " 

"Don't  disgrace  yourself  by  speaking  in  that  way, 
Mr.  Glazzard ! "  exclaimed  the  other,  his  voice  uncertain 
with  strong,  angry  feeling.  "  You  know  quite  well 
why  I  have  come  here,  and  why  you  ought  to  have 
seen  me  long  ago!" 

Thereupon  he  opened  the  bag  and  took  out  a 
manuscript-book. 

"I  found  this  only  the  other  day  among  Harry's 
odds  and  ends.  It's  a  diary  that  he  kept.  Will  you 
explain  to  me  the  meaning  of  this  entry,  dated  in  June 
of  last  year:  '  Lent  E.  G.  a  hundred  pounds '  ?  " 

Glazzard  made  no  answer,  but  his  self-command  was 
not  sufficient  to  check  a  quivering  of  the  lips. 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  who  these  initials  refer  to. 
Throughout,  ever  since  my  nephew's  intimacy  with  you 
began,  you  are  mentioned  here  as  'E.  G.'  Please  to 
explain  another  entry,  dated  August :  '  Lent  E.  G.  two 
hundred  pounds.'  And  then  again,  February  of  this 
year:  'Lent  E.  G.  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds' — and 
yet  again,  three  months  later:  'Lent  E.  G.  a  hundred 
pounds' — what  is  the  meaning  of  all  this  ?  " 

"  The  meaning,  Mr.  Charnock,"  replied  Glazzard,  "  is 
indisputable." 

"You  astound  me!"  cried  the  elder  man,  shutting 
up  the  diary  and  straightening  himself  to  an  attitude 
of  indignation.  "  Am  I  to  understand,  then,  that  this 
is  the  reason  why  Harry  left  no  money  ?  You  mean 
to  say  you  have  allowed  his  relatives  to  believe  that  he 
had  wasted  a  large  sum,  whilst  they  supposed  that 
he  was  studying  soberly  in  London" 

"If  you  are  astounded,"  returned  the  other,  raising 


14  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

his  eyebrows,  "  I  certainly  am  no  less  so.  As  your 
nephew  made  note  of  these  lendings,  wasn't  he  equally 
careful  to  jot  down  a  memorandum  when  the  debt 
was  discharged  ?  " 

Mr.  Charnock  regarded  him  fixedly,  and  for  a 
moment  seemed  in  doubt. 

"  You  paid  back  these  sums  ?  " 

"  With  what  kind  of  action  did  you  credit  me  ? " 
said  Glazzard,  quietly. 

The  other  hesitated,  but  wore  no  less  stern  a  look. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  declare,  Mr.  Glazzard,  that  I  can't 
trust  your  word.  That's  a  very  strong  thing  to  have 
to  say  to  a  man  such  as  I  have  thought  you — a  man 
of  whom  Harry  always  spoke  as  if  there  wasn't  his  like 
on  earth.  My  acquaintance  with  you  is  very  slight  ; 
I  know  very  little  indeed  about  you,  except  what 
Harry  told  me.  But  the  man  who  could  deliberately 
borrow  hundreds  of  pounds  from  a  lad  only  just  of  age 
— a  simple,  trustful,  good-natured  country  lad,  who 
had  little  but  his  own  exertions  to  depend  upon — siich 
a  man  will  tell  a  lie  to  screen  himself  !  This  money 
was  not  paid  back;  there  isn't  a  word  about  it  in  the 
diary,  and  there's  the  fact  that  Harry  had  got  rid  of 
his  money  in  a  way  no  one  could  explain.  You  had  it, 
and  you  have  kept  it,  sir !  " 

Glazzard  let  his  eyes  stray  about  the  room.  He 
uncrossed  his  legs,  tapped  on  the  arm  of  his  easy-chair, 
and  said  at  length: 

"I  have  no  liking  for  violence,  and  I  shall  try  to 
keep  my  temper.  Please  to  tell  me  the  date  of  the  last 
entry  in  that  journal." 

Mr.  Charnock  opened  the  book  again,  and  replied  at 
once; 


DEXZIL   QUARRIER  15 

"June  5tli  of  this  year— 1879." 

"I  see.  Allow  me  a  moment."  He  unlocked  a 
drawer  in  a  writing-table,  and  referred  to  some  paper. 
"On  the  1st  of  June — we  were  together  the  whole 
day— I  paid  your  nei^hew  five  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
in  bank-notes.     Please  refer  to  the  diary." 

"  You  were  together  on  that  day,  but  there  is  no  note 
of  such  a  transaction.  '  With  E.  G.  Much  talk  about 
pictures,  books,  and  music — delightful ! '     That's  all." 

"Have  you  added  up  the  sums  mentioned  pre- 
viously ?  " 

"Yes.  They  come  to  what  you  say.  How  did  it 
happen,  Mr.  Glazzard,  that  you  had  so  large  a  sum  in 
bank-notes  ?     It  isn't  usual." 

"  It  is  ]iot  unheard  of,  Mr.  Charnock,  with  men  who 
sometimes  jjlay  for  money." 

"What  !  Then  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  Harry 
learnt  from  you  to  be  a  gambler  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  He  never  had  the  least  suspicion 
that  I  played." 

"And  pray,  what  became  of  those  notes  after  he 
received  them  ?  " 

"I  have  no  idea.  For  anything  I  know,  you  may 
still  find  the  money." 

Mr.  Charnock  rose  from  his  seat. 

"I  see,"  he  said,  "that  we  needn't  talk  any  longer. 
I  don't  believe  your  story,  and  there's  an  end  of  it. 
The  fact  of  your  borrowing  was  utterly  disgraceful;  it 
shows  me  that  the  poor  boy  had  fallen  in  a  trap,  instead 
of  meeting  with  a  friend  who  was  likely  to  guide  and 
improve  him.  You  confess  yourself  a  gambler,  and  I 
go  away  with  the  conviction  that  you  are  something 
yet  worse." 


16  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

Glazzard  set  his  lips  hard,  but  fell  back  into  the 
lounging  attitude. 

"The  matter  doesn't  end  here,"  went  on  his  accuser, 
"  be  sure  of  that  !  I  shall  light  upon  evidence  sooner 
or  later.  Do  you  know,  sir,  that  Harry  had  a  sister, 
and  that  she  earns  her  own  living  by  giving  lessons  ? 
You  have  robbed  her — think  it  over  at  your  leisure. 
Why,  less  than  a  fortnight  after  that  day  you  and  he 
spent  together— the  1st  of  June — the  lad  lay  dying;  yet 
you  could  deliberately  plan  to  rob  him.  Your  denial 
is  utterly  vain ;  I  would  pledge  my  life  on  the  charge ! 
I  read  guilt  in  your  face  when  I  entered — you  were 
afraid  of  me,  Mr,  Glazzard!  I  understand  now  why 
you  never  came  to  see  the  lad  on  his  death-bed,  though 
he  sent  for  you — and  of  course  I  know  why  he  was 
anxious  to  speak  to  you.  Oh,  you  have  plenty  of 
plausible  excuses,  but  they  are  lies!  You  felt  pretty 
sure,  I  dare  say,  that  the  lad  would  not  betray  you; 
you  knew  his  fine  sense  of  honour;  you  calculated 
upon  it.     All  your  conduct  is  of  a  piece ! " 

Glazzard  rose. 

"Mr.  Charnock,  please  to  leave  me. — I  oughtn't  to 
have  borrowed  that  money ;  but  having  paid  it  back,  I 
can't  submit  to  any  more  of  your  abuse.  My  patience 
has  its  limits." 

"  I  am  no  brawler,"  replied  the  other,  "  and  I  can  do 
no  good  by  talking  to  you.  But  if  ever  I  come  across 
any  of  your  acquaintances,  they  shall  know,  very  plainly, 
what  opinion  I  have  of  you.  Prosecute  me  for  slander, 
Mr.  Glazzard,  if  you  dare — I  desire  nothing  better  !  " 

And  Mr.  Charnock  went  hurriedly  from  the  room. 

For  several  minutes  Glazzard  kept  the  same  attitude, 
his  eyes  fixed  on  the  floor,  one  hand  behind  his  backj 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  17 

the  other  thrust  into  his  waistcoat.  Then  he  uttered 
an  inarticuhite  exclamation,  and  walked  with  hurried, 
jerky  step  across  the  room;  his  facial  muscles  quivered 
ceaselessly,  distorting  the  features  into  all  manner  of 
grotesque  and  ugly  expressions.  Again  the  harsh  sound 
escaped  him,  and  again  he  changed  his  place  as  though 
impelled  by  a  sudden  pain.  It  was  a  long  time  before 
he  took  a  seat;  on  doing  so,  he  threw  up  his  feet,  and 
rested  them  against  the  side  of  the  fireplace.  His 
hands  were  thrust  into  his  trouser-pockets,  and  his 
head  fell  back,  so  that  he  stared  at  the  ceiling.  At  one 
moment  he  gave  out  a  short  mocking  laugh,  but  no 
look  of  mirth  followed  the  explosion.  Little  by  little 
he  grew  motionless,  and  sat  with  closed  eyes. 

From  the  walls  about  him  looked  down  many  a  sweet 
and  noble  countenance,  such  as  should  have  made  the 
room  a  temple  of  serenity.  Nowhere  was  there  a  token 
of  vulgar  sensualism;  the  actress,  the  ballet-nymph  had 
no  place  among  these  chosen  gems  of  art.  On  the 
dwarf  book-cases  were  none  but  works  of  pure 
inspiration,  the  best  of  old  and  new,  the  kings  of 
intellect  and  their  gentlest  courtiers.  Fifteen  years 
had  gone  to  the  adorning  of  this  sanctuary;  of  money, 
no  great  sum,  for  Glazzard  had  never  commanded  more 
than  his  younger-brother's  portion  of  a  yearly  five 
hundred  pounds,  and  all  his  tastes  were  far  from  being 
represented  in  the  retreat  where  he  spent  his  hours  of 
highest  enjoyment  and  endeavour.  Of  late  he  had 
been  beset  by  embarrassments  which  a  man  of  his  stamj) 
could  ill  endure:  depreciation  of  investments,  need  of 
sordid  calculation,  humiliating  encounters.  To-day  he 
tasted  the  very  dregs  of  ignoble  anguisli,  and  it  seemed 
to  him  that  he  should  never  again  look  with  deliglit 


18  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

upon  a  picture,  or  feast  his  soul  with  music,  or  care  to 
open  a  book. 

A  knock  at  the  door  aroused  him.  It  was  a  civil- 
tongued  serving-woman  who  came  to  ask  if  he  purposed 
having  luncheon  at  home  to-day.  No;  he  was  on  the 
point  of  going  forth. 

Big  Ben  was  striking  twelve.  At  a  quarter-past, 
Glazzard  took  a  cab  which  conveyed  him  to  one  of  the 
Inns  of  Court.  He  ascended  stairs,  and  reached  a  door  on 
whicli  was  inscribed  the  name  of  Mr.  Stark,  Solicitor.  An 
office-boy  at  once  admitted  him  to  the  innermost  room, 
where  he  was  greeted  with  much  friendliness  by  a  short, 
stout  man,  with  gleaming  visage,  full  lips,  chubby  hands. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  now  ? "  inquired  the  visitor,  who 
had  been  summoned  hither  by  a  note  that  morning. 

Mr.  Stark,  with  an  air  of  solemnity  not  wholly  jocose, 
took  his  friend's  arm  and  led  him  to  a  corner  of  the 
room,  where,  resting  against  a  chair-back,  was  a  small 
ill-framed  oil  painting. 

"  What  h^ave  you  to  say  to  that  ?  " 

"  The  ugliest  thing  I've  seen  for  a  long  time." 

"But — but — "  the  solicitor  stammered,  with  indig- 
nant eagerness — "  but  do  you  know  whose  it  is  ?  " 

The  picture  represented  a  bit  of  country  road,  with  a 
dung-heap,  a  duck-pond,  a  pig  asleep,  and  some  barn- 
door fowls. 

"I  know  whose  you  tliinh  it  is,"  replied  Glazzard, 
coldly.  His  face  still  had  an  unhealthy  pallor,  and  his 
eyes  looked  as  if  they  had  but  just  opened  after  the 
oppression  of  nightmare.     "  But  it  isn't." 

"  Come,  come,  Glazzard !  you  are  too  dictatorial,  my 
boy." 

Mr.  Stark  kept  turning  a  heavy  ring  upon  his  finger. 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  19 

showing  in  face  and  tone  that  the  connoisseur's  dogmatism 
troubled  him  more  than  he  wished  to  have  it  thought. 

"  Winterbottoin  warrants  it,"  he  added,  with  a 
triumphant  jerk  of  his  phimp  body. 

"Then  AVinterbottom  is  either  cheating  or  cheated. 
That  is  no  Morland;  take  my  word  for  it.  Was  that 
all  you  wanted  me  for  ?  " 

Mr.  Stark's  good-nature  was  severely  tried.  Mental 
suffering  had  made  Glazzard  worse  than  impolite;  his 
familiar  tone  of  authority  on  questions  of  art  had 
become  too  frankly  contemptuous. 

"  You're  out  of  sorts  this  morning,"  conjectured  his 
legal  friend.  "  Let  Morland  be  for  the  present.  I  had 
another  reason  for  asking  you  to  call,  but  don't  stay 
unless  you  like." 

Glazzard  looked  round  the  office. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  asked,  more  gently. 

"  Quarrier  tells  me  you  are  going  down  to  Polterham. 
Any  special  reason  ?  " 

"  Yes.     But  I  can't  talk  about  it." 

"  I  was  down  there  myself  last  Sunday.  I  talked 
politics  with  the  local  wiseacres,  and — do  you  know,  it 
has  made  me  think  of  you  ever  since  ?  " 

"  How  so  ?  " 

Mr.  Stark  consulted  his  watch. 

"  I'm  at  leisure  for  just  nineteen  minutes.  If  you  care  to 
sit  down,  I  have  an  idea  I  should  like  to  put  before  you." 

The  visitor  seated  himself  and  crossed  his  legs.  His 
countenance  gave  small  promise  of  attention. 

"  You  know,"  resumed  Mr.  Stark,  leaning  forward 
and  twiddling  his  thumbs,  "  that  they're  hoping  to  get 
rid  of  Welwyn-Baker  at  the  next  election  ?  " 

«  What  of  that  ?  " 


20  BENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  Toby  Liversedge  talks  of  coming  forward — but  that 
won't  do/' 

"Probably  not.'* 

The  solicitor  bent  still  more  and  tapped  bis  friend's 
knee. 

"  Glazzard,  here  is  your  moment.  Here  is  your 
chance  of  getting  what  you  want.  Liversedge  is 
reluctant  to  stand;  I  know  that  for  certain.  To  a 
more  promising  man  he'll  yield  with  pleasure. — St! 
st!  listen  to  me! — you  are  that  man.  Go  down;  see 
Toby;  see  the  wiseacres  and  wire-pullers;  get  your 
name  in  vogue!  It's  cut  out  for  you.  Act  now,  or 
never  again  pretend  that  you  want  a  chance." 

A  smile  of  disdain  settled  upon  Glazzard's  lips,  but 
his  eyes  had  lost  their  vacancy, 

"  On  the  Eadical  side  ?  "  he  asked,  mockingly.  "  For 
Manchester  and  Brummagem  ?  " 

"  For  Parliament,  my  dear  boy  !  For  Westminster, 
St.  Stephen's,  distinction,  a  career  !  I  should  perhaps 
have  thought  of  your  taking  Welwyn-Baker's  place, 
but  there  are  many  reasons  against  it.  You  would  lose 
the  support  of  your  brother  and  all  his  friends.  Above 
all,  Polterham  will  go  Liberal — mark  my  prediction ! " 

"I  doubt  it." 

"  I  haven't  time  to  give  you  all  my  reasons.  Dine 
with  me  this  evening,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Can't.     Engaged  to  Quarrier." 

"  All  right !  "  said  the  latter.     "  To-morrow,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  will  dine  to-morrow." 

Mr.  Stark  jumped  up. 

"  Think  of  it.  I  can't  talk  longer  now ;  there's  the  voice 
of  a  client  I'm  expecting.     Eight  sharp  to-morrow !  " 

Glazzard  took  his  leave. 


Ill 

Like  so  many  other  gentlemen  whose  function  in  the 
world  remains  indefinite,  chiefly  because  of  the  patri- 
mony they  have  inherited,  Denzil  Quarrier  had  eaten 
his  dinners,  and  been  called  to  the  Bar;  he  went  so  far 
in  specification  as  to  style  himself  Equity  barrister. 
But  the  Courts  had  never  heard  his  voice.  Having 
begun  the  studies,  he  carried  them  through  just  for 
consistency,  but  long  before  bowing  to  the  Benchers  of 
his  Inn  he  foresaw  that  nothing  practical  would  come 
of  it.  This  was  his  second  futile  attempt  to  class 
himself  with  a  recognized  order  of  society.  Nay, 
strictly  speaking,  the  third.  The  close  of  his 
thirteenth  year  had  seen  him  a  pupil  at  Polterham 
Grammar  School;  not  an  unpromising  pupil  by  any 
means,  but  with  a  turn  for  insubordination,  much 
disposed  to  pursue  with  zeal  anything  save  the  tasks 
tliat  were  set  him.  Inspired  by  Cooper  and  Captain 
Marryat,  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  his  destiny  was 
the  Navy,  and  stuck  so  firmly  to  it  that  his  father,  who 
happened  to  have  a  friend  on  the  Board  of  Admiralty, 
procured  him  a  nomination,  and  speedily  saw  the  boy  a 
cadet  on  the  "  Britannia."  Denzil  wore  Her  Majesty's 
uniform  for  some  five  years;  then  he  tired  of  the 
service  and  went  back  to  Polterham  to  reconsider  his 
bent  and  aptitudes. 


22  DENZIL  QtTARRIER 

His  father  no  longer  dwelt  in  the  old  home,  but  had 
recently  gone  over  to  Norway,  where  he  pursued  his 
calling  of  timber-merchant.  Denzil's  uncle — Samuel 
Quarrier — busied  in  establishing  a  sugar-refinery  in  his 
native  town,  received  the  young  man  with  amiable 
welcome,  and  entertained  him  for  half  a  year.  The 
ex-seaman  then  resolved  to  join  his  parents  abroad, 
as  a  good  way  of  looking  about  him.  He  found  his 
mother  on  her  death-bed.  In  consequence  of  her 
decease,  Denzil  became  possessed  of  means  amj)ly 
sufficient  for  a  bachelor.  As  far  as  ever  from  really 
knowing  what  he  desired  to  be  at,  he  began  to  make 
a  show  of  interesting  himself  in  timber.  Perhaps, 
after  all,  commerce  was  his/or/e.  This,  then,  might  be 
called  a  second  endeavour  to  establish  himself. 

Mr.  Quarrier  laughed  at  the  idea,  and  would  not  take 
it  seriously.  And  of  course  was  in  the  right,  for  Denzil, 
on  pretence  of  studying  forestry,  began  to  ramble  about 
Scandinavia  like  a  gentleman  at  large.  Here,  however, 
he  did  ultimately  hit  on  a  pursuit  into  which  he  could 
throw  himself  with  decided  energy.  The  old  Norsemen 
laid  their  spell  upon  him;  he  was  bitten  with  a  zeal 
for  saga-hunting,  studied  vigorously  the  Northern 
tongues,  went  off  to  Iceland,  returned  to  rummage  in 
the  libraries  of  Coj^enhagen,  began  to  translate  the 
Heimskringla,  planned  a  History  of  the  Vikings, 
Emphatically,  this  kind  of  thing  suited  him.  No  one 
was  less  likely  to  turn  out  a  bookworm,  yet  in  the  study 
of  Norse  literature  he  found  that  combination  of  mental 
and  muscular  interests  which  was  perchance  what  he 
had  been  seeking. 

But  his  father  was  dissatisfied;  a  very  practical  man, 
he  saw  in  this  odd  enthusiasm  a  mere  waste  of  time. 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  23 

Denzil's  secession  from  the  Navy  had  sorely  dis- 
appointed him;  constantly  he  nttered  his  wish  that  the 
young  man  should  attach  himself  to  some  vocation  that 
became  a  gentleman.  Denzil,  a  little  weary  for  the 
time  of  his  Sea-Kings,  at  length  consented  to  go  to 
London  and  enter  himself  as  a  student  of  law. 
Perhaps  his  father  was  right.  "  Yes,  I  need  discipline 
— intellectual  and  moral.  I  am  beginning  to  perceive 
my  defects.  There's  something  in  me  not  quite  civil- 
ized.    I'll  go  in  for  the  law." 

Yet  Scandinavia  had  not  seen  the  last  of  him.  He 
was  bacJiwards  and  forwards  pretty  frequently  across 
the  North  Sea.  He  kept  up  a  correspondence  with 
learned  Swedes,  Norwegians,  Danes,  and  men  of 
Iceland;  when  they  came  to  England  he  entertained 
them  with  hearty  hospitality,  and  searched  with  them 
at  the  British  Museum.  These  gentlemen  liked  him, 
though  they  felt  occasionally  that  he  was  wont  to  lay 
down  the  law  when  the  attitude  of  a  disciple  would 
rather  have  become  him. 

He  liad  rooms  in  Clement's  Inn,  retaining  them  even 
when  his  abode,  strictly  speaking,  was  at  the  little 
house  by  Clapham  Common.  To  that  house  no  one 
was  invited.  Old  Mr.  Quarrier  knew  not  of  its 
existence;  neither  did  Mr.  Sam  Quarrier  of  Polterham, 
nor  any  other  of  Denzil's  kinsfolk.  The  first  person  to 
whom  Denzil  revealed  that  feature  of  his  life  was 
Eustace  Glazzard — a  discreet,  upright  friend,  the  very 
man  to  entrust  with  such  a  secret. 

It  was  now  early  in  the  autumn  of  1879.  Six 
months  ago  Denzil  had  lost  his  father,  who  died 
suddenly  on  a  journey  from  Christiania  up  the  country, 
leaving  the  barrister  in  London  a  substantial  fortune. 


24  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

This  change  of  circumstances  had  in  no  way  out- 
wardly affected  Denzil's  life.  As  before,  he  spent  a 
good  deal  of  his  time  in  the  rooms  at  Clement's  Inn, 
and  cultivated  domesticity  at  Clapham.  He  was  again 
working  in  earnest  at  his  History  of  the  Vikings. 
Something  would  at  last  come  of  it;  a  heap  of  manu- 
script attested  his  solid  progress. 

To-day  he  had  come  to  town  only  for  an  hour  or 
two.  Glazzard  was  to  call  at  half-past  six,  and  they 
would  go  together  to  dine  with  Lilian.  In  his  report 
to  her,  Quarrier  had  spoken  nothing  less  than  truth. 
"  The  lady  with  whom  you  chanced  to  see  me  the  other 
day  was  my  wife.  I  have  been  married  for  a  year  and 
a  half — a  strictly  private  matter.  Be  so  good  as  to 
respect  my  confidence."  That  was  all  Glazzard  had 
learnt;  sufiicieut  to  excite  no  little  curiosity  in  the 
connoisseur. 

Denzil's  chambers  had  a  marked  characteristic;  they 
were  full  of  objects  and  pictures  which  declared  his  love 
of  Northern  lands  and  seas.  At  work  he  sat  in  the 
midst  of  a  little  museum.  To  the  bear,  the  elk,  the 
seal,  he  was  indebted  for  comforts  and  ornaments;  on 
his  shelves  were  quaint  collections  of  crockery;  coins  of 
historical  value  displayed  themselves  in  cases  on  the 
walls;  shoes  and  garments  of  outlandish  fashion  lay 
here  and  there.  Probably  few  private  libraries  in 
England  could  boast  such  an  array  of  Scandinavian 
literature  as  was  here  exhibited.  As  a  matter  of  course 
the  rooms  had  accumulated  even  more  dirt  than  one 
expects  in  a  bachelor's  retreat;  they  were  redolent  of 
the  fume  of  many  pipes. 

When  Glazzard  tapped  at  the  inner  door  and  entered, 
his  friend,  who   sat  at  the  writing-table  in  evening 


DENZIL   QUAERIER  25 

costnme,  threw  up  liis  arms,  stretched  himself,  and 
yawned  noisily. 

"  Working  at  your  book  ?  "  asked  the  other. 

"No;  letters.  I  don't  care  for  the  Sea-Kings  Just 
now.  They're  rather  remote  old  dogs,  after  all,  you 
know." 

"  Distinctly,  I  should  say." 

"A  queer  thing,  on  the  whole,  that  I  can  stick  so  to 
them.  But  I  like  their  spirit.  You're  not  a  pugnacious 
fellow,  I  think,  Glazzard  ?  " 

"  No,  I  think  not." 

"But  I  am,  you  know.  I  mean  it  literally.  Every 
now  and  then  I  feel  I  should  like  to  thrash  some  one. 

I  read  in  the  jaaper  this  morning  of  some  son  of  a  " 

(Denzil's  language  occasionally  reminded  one  that  he 
had  been  a  sailor)  "who  had  cheated  a  lot  of  poor 
servant-girls  out  of  their  savings.  My  fists  itched  to 
be  at  that  lubber !  There's  a  good  deal  to  be  said  for 
the  fighting  instinct  in  man,  you  know." 

"  So  thinks  'Arry  of  the  music-halls." 

"Well,  we  have  heard  before  of  an  ass  oj^ening  its 
mouth  to  prophesy.  I  tell  you  what:  on  my  way 
here  this  afternoon  I  passed  the  office  of  some  journal 
or  other  in  the  Strand,  where  they're  exhibiting  a  copy 
of  their  paj)er  returned  to  them  by  a  subscriber  in 
Russia.  Two  columns  are  completely  obliterated  with 
the  censor's  lamp-black, — that's  how  it  reaches  the 
subscriber's  hands.  As  I  stood  looking  at  that,  my 
blood  rose  to  boiling-point  !  I  could  have  hurrah'd  for 
war  with  Russia  on  that  one  account  alone.  That 
contemptible  idiot  of  a  Czar,  sitting  there  on  his  ant- 
hill throne,  and  bidding  Time  stand  still!" 

He  laughed  long  and  loud  in  scornful  wrath, 


26  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  The  Czar  can't  help  it/'  remarked  Glazzard,  smiling 
calmly,  "and  perhaps  knows  nothing  ahout  it.  The 
man  is  a  slave  of  slaves." 

"  The  more  contemptible  and  criminal,  then ! "  roared 
Denzil.  "  If  a  man  in  his  position  can't  rule,  he  should 
be  kicked  out  of  the  back-door  of  his  palace.  I  have  no 
objection  to  an  autocrat;  I  think  most  countries  need 
one.  I  should  make  a  good  autocrat  myself — a  benevo- 
lent despot." 

"We  live  in  stirring  times,"  said  the  other,  with  a 
fine  curl  of  the  lips.  "  AVho  knows  what  destiny  has  in 
store  for  you  ?  " 

Quarrier  burst  into  good-natured  merriment,  and 
thereupon  made  ready  to  set  forth. 

When  they  reached  the  house  by  Clapham  Common, 
Denzil  opened  the  door  with  his  latch-key,  talked 
loud  whilst  he  was  removing  his  overcoat,  and  then 
led  the  way  into  the  sitting-room.  Lilian  was  there; 
she  rose  and  laid  down  a  book;  her  smile  of  welcome 
did  not  conceal  the  extreme  nervousness  from  which  she 
was  suffering.  Quarrier's  genial  contempt  of  ceremony, 
as  he  performed  the  introduction,  allowed  it  to  be  seen 
that  he  too  experienced  some  constraint.  But  the 
guest  bore  himself  with  perfect  grace  and  decorum. 
Though  not  a  fluent  talker,  he  fell  at  once  into  a  strain 
of  agreeable  chat  on  subjects  which  seemed  likely  to  be 
of  interest;  his  success  was  soon  manifest  in  the  change 
of  Lilian's  countenance.  Denzil,  attentive  to  both, 
grew  more  genuinely  at  ease.  When  Lilian  caught  his 
eye,  he  smiled  at  her  with  warmth  of  approving 
kindness.  It  must  have  been  a  fastidious  man  who 
felt  dissatisfied  with  the  way  in  which  the  young 
hostess  discharged  her  duties;  timidity  led  her  into  no 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  27 

gmicherie,  but  was  rather  an  added  charm  among  the 
many  with  which  nature  had  endowed  her.  Speech  and 
manner,  though  they  had  nothing  of  the  conventional 
adornment  that  is  gathered  in  London  drawing-rooms, 
were  those  of  gentle  breeding  and  bright  intelligence; 
her  education  seemed  better  than  is  looked  for  among 
ladies  in  general.  Glazzard  perceived  that  she  had 
read  diligently,  and  with  scope  beyond  that  of  the 
circulating  library ;  the  book  with  which  she  had  been 
engaged  when  they  entered  was  a  Danish  novel. 

"Do  you  also  look  for  salvation  to  the  Scandi- 
navians ?  "  he  asked. 

"I  read  the  languages — the  modern.  They  have  a 
very  interesting  literature  of  to-day;  the  old  battle- 
stories  don't  appeal  to  me  quite  so  much  as  they  do  to 
Denzil." 

"  You  ought  to  know  this  fellow  Jacobsen,"  said 
Quarrier,  taking  up  the  novel.  "'Marie  Grubbe' 
doesn't  sound  a  very  aesthetic  title,  but  the  book  is 
quite  in  your  line — a  wonderfully  delicate  bit  of  work." 

"Don't  imagine,  Mrs.  Quarrier,"  pleaded  Glazzard, 
"  that  I  am  what  is  called  an  aesthete.  The  thins:  is  an 
abomination  to  me." 

"  Oh,  you  go  tolerably  far  in  that  direction ! "  cried 
Denzil,  laughing.  "  True,  you  don't  let  your  hair  grow, 
and  in  general  make  an  ass  of  yourself;  but  there's  a 
good  deal  of  preciosity  about  you,  you  know." 

Seeing  that  Mr.  Glazzard's  crown  showed  an  in- 
cipient baldness,  the  allusion  to  his  hair  was  perhaps 
unfortunate.  Lilian  fancied  that  her  guest  betrayed  a 
slight  annoyance ;  she  at  once  interposed  with  a  remark 
that  led  away  from  such  dangerous  ground.  It  seemed 
to  her  (she  had  already  received  the  impression  from 


28  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

Quarrier's  talk  of  the  evening  before)  that  Denzil 
behaved  to  his  friend  with  an  air  of  bantering  suiieriority 
which  it  was  not  easy  to  account  for.  Mr.  Glazzard,  so 
far  as  she  couhl  yet  judge,  was  by  no  means  the  kind  of 
man  to  be  dealt  with  in  this  tone;  she  thought  him 
rather  disposed  to  pride  than  to  an  excess  of  humility, 
and  saw  in  his  face  an  occasional  melancholy  which 
inspired  her  with  interest  and  respect. 

A  female  servant  (the  vacancy  made  by  Lilian's  self- 
denying  kindness  had  been  hastily  supplied)  appeared 
with  summons  to  dinner.  Mr.  Glazzard  offered  an  arm 
to  his  hostess,  and  Quarrier  followed  with  a  look  of 
smiling  pleasure. 

Hospitality  had  been  duly  cared  for.  Not  at  all 
inclined  to  the  simple  fare  which  Denzil  chose  to 
believe  would  suffice  for  him,  Glazzard  found  more 
satisfaction  in  the  meal  than  he  had  anticipated.  If 
Mrs.  Quarrier  were  responsible  for  the  menu  (he 
doubted  it),  she  revealed  yet  another  virtue.  The 
mysterious  circumstances  of  this  household  puzzled  him 
more  and  more;  occasionally  he  forgot  to  speak,  or  to 
listen,  in  the  intensity  of  his  preoccupation;  and  at 
such  moments  his  countenance  darkened. 

On  the  whole,  however,  he  seemed  in  better  sjDirits 
than  of  wont.  Quarrier  was  in  the  habit  of  seeing  him 
perhaps  once  a  month,  and  it  was  long  since  he  had 
heard  the  connoisseur  discourse  so  freely,  so  uncon- 
cernedly. As  soon  as  they  were  seated  at  table,  Denzil 
began  to  talk  of  politics. 

"  If  my  brother-in-law  really  stands  for  Polterham/' 
he  exclaimed,  "we  must  set  you  canvassing  among  the 
mill-hands,  Glazzard  I " 

"  Wm  ! — not  impossible," 


DENZIL   QITARRIER  29 

"As  much  as  to  say,"  remarked  the  other  to  Lilian, 
"that  he  would  see  them  all  consumed  in  furnaces 
before  he  stretched  forth  a  hand  to  save  them." 

"  I  know  very  well  how  to  understand  Denzil's  ex- 
aggerations," said  Lilian,  with  a  smile  to  her  guest. 

"He  thinks,"  was  Glazzard's  reply,  "that  I  am 
something  worse  than  a  high  Tory.  It's  quite  a  mis- 
take, and  I  don't  know  how  his  belief  originated." 

"My  dear  fellow,  you  are  so  naturally  a  Tory  that 
you  never  troubled  to  think  to  what  party  you  belong. 
And  I  can  understand  you  well  enough;  I  have  lean- 
ings that  way  myself.  Still,  when  I  get  down  to 
Polterham  I  shall  call  myself  a  Radical.  AVhat  sensible 
man  swears  by  a  party  ?  There's  more  foolery  and 
dishonesty  than  enough  on  both  sides,  when  you  come 
to  party  quarrelling;  but  as  for  the  broad  principles 
concerned,  why.  Radicalism  of  course  means  justice.  I 
put  it  in  this  way:  If  /were  a  poor  devil,  half  starved 
and  overworked,  I  should  be  a  savage  Radical;  so  I'll 
go  in  for  helping  the  poor  devils." 

"  You  don't  always  act  on  that  principle,  Denzil," 
said  Lilian,  with  a  rallying  smile.  "Not,  for  instance, 
when  beggars  are  concerned." 

"  Beggars  !  Would  you  have  me  support  trading 
impostors  ?  As  for  the  genuine  cases — why,  if  I  found 
myself  penniless  in  the  streets,  I  would  make  such  a 
row  that  all  the  country  should  hear  of'  it  !  Do  you 
think  I  would  go  whining  to  individuals  ?  If  I  hadn't 
food,  it  would  be  the  duty  of  society  to  provide  me  with 
it — and  I  would  take  good  care  that  I  'was  provided; 
whether  in  workhouse  or  gaol  wouldn't  matter  much. 
At  all  events,  the  business  should  be  managed  with  the 
maximum  of  noise." 


30  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

He  emptied  his  wine-glass,  and  went  on  in  the  same 
vigorous  tone. 

"  We  know  very  well  that  there  are  no  such  things 
as  natural  rights.  Nature  gives  no  rights;  she  will 
produce  an  infinite  number  of  creatures  only  to  torture 
and  eventually  destroy  them.  But  civilization  is  at  war 
with  nature,  and  as  civilized  beings  we  have  rights. 
Every  man  is  justified  in  claiming  food  and  shelter  and 
repose.  As  things  are,  many  thousands  of  people  in 
every  English  county  either  lack  these  necessaries 
altogether,  or  get  them  only  in  return  for  the  accursed 
badge  of  j)auperdom.  I,  for  one,  am  against  this  state 
of  things,  and  I  sympathize  with  the  men  who  think 
that  nothing  can  go  right  until  the  fundamental  injus- 
tice is  done  away  with." 

Glazzard  listened  with  an  inscrutable  smile,  content 
to  throw  in  a  word  of  acquiescence  from  time  to  time. 
But  when  the  necessity  of  appeasing  his  robust  appetite 
held  Quarrier  silent  for  a  few  minutes,  the  guest 
turned  to  Lilian  and  asked  her  if  she  made  a  study 
of  political  questions. 

"  I  have  been  trying  to  follow  them  lately,"  she 
replied,  with  simple  directness. 

"Do  you  feel  it  a  grievance  that  you  have  no  vote 
and  no  chance  of  representing  a  borough  ?  " 

"  No,  I  really  don't." 

"  I  defy  any  one  to  find  a  dozen  women  who  sincerely 
do,"  broke  in  Denzil.  "That's  all  humbug!  Such 
twaddle  only  serves  to  obscure  the  great  questions  at 
issue.  What  we  have  to  do  is  to  clear  away  the 
obvious  lies  and  superstitions  that  hold  a  great  part  of 
the  people  in  a  degrading  bondage.  Our  need  is  of 
statesmen  who  are  bold  enough  and  strong  enough  to 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  31 

cast  off  the  restraints  of  party,  of  imbecile  fears,  of 
words  that  answer  to  no  reality,  and  legislate  with 
honest  zeal  for  the  general  good.  How  many  men  are 
there  in  Parliament  who  represent  anything  more 
respectable  than  the  interest  of  a  trade,  or  a  faction,  or 
their  own  bloated  person  ?  " 

"  This  would  rouse  the  echoes  in  an  East-end  club," 
interposed  Glazzard,  with  an  air  of  good-humoured 
jesting. 

"  The  difference  is,  my  dear  fellow,  that  it  is  given 
as  an  honest  opinion  in  a  private  dining-room.  There's 
Welwyn-Baker  now — thick-headed  old  jackass! — what 
right  has  he  to  be  sitting  in  a  national  assembly  ?  Call 
himself  what  he  may,  it's  clearly  our  business  to  get  rid 
of  him.  There's  something  infuriating  in  the  thought 
that  such  a  man  can  give  his  hee-haw  for  or  against  a 
proposal  that  concerns  the  nation.  His  mere  existence 
is  a  lie  ! " 

"  He  has  hardly  progressed  with  the  times,"  assented 
Glazzard. 

Lilian  was  listening  so  attentively  that  she  forgot 
her  dinner. 

"I  didn't  think  you  cared  so  much  about  politics," 
she  remarked,  gravely. 

"  Oh,  it  comes  out  now  and  then.  I  suppose  Glaz- 
zard's  aesthetic  neutrality  stirs  me  up." 

"  I  am  neither  aesthetic  nor  neutral,"  remarked  the 
guest,  as  if  casually. 

Denzil  laughed. 

Lilian,  after  waiting  for  a  further  declaration  from 
Glazzard,  which  did  not  come,  said,  in  her  soft  tones : 

"  You  express  yourself  so  vehemently,  Denzil." 

"Why  not?    These  are  obvious  truths.     Of  course 


32  DENZIL   QUAKKIER 

I  could  speak  just  as  strongly  on  the  Conservative  side 
with  regard  to  many  things.  I  can't  say  that  I  have 
much  faith  in  the  capacity  or  honesty  of  the  mass  of 
Kadical  voters.  If  I  found  myself  at  one  of  the  clubs 
of  which  Glazzard  speaks,  I  should  very  likely  get 
hooted  down  as  an  insolent  aristocrat.  I  don't  go  in 
for  crazy  extremes.  There'll  never  be  a  Utoj^ia,  and 
it's  only  a  form  of  lying  to  set  such  ideals  before  the 
multitude.  I  believe  in  the  distinction  of  classes;  the 
only  class  I  would  altogether  abolish  is  that  of  the 
hungry  and  the  ragged.  So  long  as  nature  doles  out 
the  gift  of  brains  in  different  proportions,  there  must 
exist  social  subordination.  The  true  Radical  is  the 
man  who  wishes  so  to  order  things  that  no  one  will  be 
urged  by  misery  to  try  and  get  out  of  the  class  he  is 
born  in." 

Glazzard  agreed  that  this  was  a  good  way  of  putting 
it,  and  thereupon  broached  a  subject  so  totally  different 
that  politics  were  finally  laid  aside. 

When  Lilian  rose  and  withdrew,  the  friends  remained 
for  several  minutes  in  silence.  They  lighted  cigarettes, 
and  contemplatively  watched  the  smoke.  Of  a  sudden, 
Quarrier  bent  forward  upon  the  table. 

"  You  shall  have  the  explanation  of  this  some  day," 
he  said,  in  a  low  friendly  voice,  his  eyes  lighting  with 
a  gleam  of  heartfelt  confidence. 

"  Thanks !  "  murmured  the  other. 

"  Tell  me — does  she  impress  you  favourably  ?  " 

"  Very.     I  am  disposed  to  think  highly  of  her." 

Denzil  held  out  his  hand,  and  pressed  the  one  which 
Glazzard  offered  in  return. 

"You  cannot  think  too  highly — cannot  possibly! 
She  has  a  remarkable  character.    For  one  thing,  I  never 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  33 

knew  a  girl  with  sucli  strong  sympathies — so  large- 
hearted  and  compassionate.  You  heai'd  her  remark 
about  the  beggars;  if  she  had  her  own  way,  she  Avould 
sujoport  a  colony  of  pensioners.  Let  the  sentimentalists 
say  what  they  like,  that  isn't  a  common  weakness  in 
women,  you  know.  Her  imagination  is  painfully 
active;  I'm  afraid  it  causes  her  a  great  deal  of  misery. 
The  other  day  I  found  her  in  tears,  and  what  do  you 
think  was  the  reason  ? — she  had  been  reading  in  some 
history  about  a  poor  fellow  who  was  persecuted  for  his 
religion  in  Charles  the  First's  time — some  dissenter  who 
got  into  the  grip  of  Laud,  was  imprisoned,  and  then 
brought  to  destitution  by  being  forbidden  to  exercise 
each  calling  that  he  took  to  in  hoj)e  of  earning  bread. 
The  end  was,  he  went  mad  and  died.  Lilian  was  crying 
over  the  story;  it  made  her  wretched  for  a  whole  day." 

"  Eather  morbid,  that,  I'm  afraid." 

"  I  don't  know;  most  of  us  would  be  better  for  a  little 
of  such  morbidness.  You  mustn't  sujipose  that  fiction 
would  have  the  same  effect  on  her — not  at  all.  That 
poor  devil  (his  name,  I  remember,  was  Workman)  was 
really  and  truly  liounded  to  insanity  and  the  grave, 
and  she  saw  the  thing  in  all  its  dreadful  details.  I 
would  rather  she  had  got  into  a  rage  about  it,  as  I 
should — but  that  isn't  her  nature." 

"  Let  us  hope  she  could  rejoice  when  Laud  was  laid 
by  the  heels." 

"  I  fear  not.  I  am  afraid  she  would  forget,  and  make 
excuses  for  the  blackguard." 

Glazzard  smiled  at  the  ceiling,  and  smoked  silently. 
Turning  his  eyes  at  length,  and  seeing  Quarrier  in  a 
brown  study,  he  contemplated  tlie  honest  face,  then 
asked : 


34  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  How  old  is  she  ?  " 

"  Just  one-and-twenty," 

"  I  should  have  thought  younger." 

Nothing  more  was  said  of  Lilian,  and  very  soon  they 
went  to  the  room  where  she  awaited  them. 

"I  know  you  are  a  musician,  Mr.  Glazzard,"  said 
Lilian  before  long,  "  Will  you  let  me  have  the  pleasure 
of  hearing  you  play  something  ? '' 

"  Some  enemy  hath  done  this,"  the  guest  made  reply, 
looking  towards  Denzil. 

But  without  further  protest  he  went  to  the  piano  and 
played  two  or  three  short  pieces.  Any  one  with  more 
technical  knowledge  than  the  hearers  would  have 
perceived  that  he  was  doing  his  best.  As  it  was,  Lilian 
frequently  turned  to  Denzil  with  a  look  of  intense 
delight. 

"Glazzard,"  exclaimed  his  friend  at  length,  "it 
puzzles  me  how  such  a  lazy  fellow  as  you  are  has 
managed  to  do  so  much  in  so  many  directions." 

The  musician  laughed  carelessly,  and,  not  deigning 
any  other  reply,  went  to  talk  with  his  hostess. 


IV 


The  Polterham  Literary  Institute  was  a  "hot-bed  of 
Radicalism."  For  the  last  5'ear  or  two  this  had  been 
generally  understood.  Originating  in  the  editorial 
columns  of  the  Polterliam  Mercury,  the  remark  was  now 
a  commonplace  on  the  lips  of  good  Conservatives,  and 
the  Liberals  themselves  were  not  unwilling  to  smile 
an  admission  of  its  truth.  At  the  founding  of  the 
Institute  no  such  thing  was  foreseen;  but  in  1859 
Polterham  was  hardly  conscious  of  the  stirrings  of 
that  new  life  which,  in  the  course  of  twenty  years, 
was  to  transform  the  town.  In  those  days  a  traveller 
descending  the  slope  of  the  Banwell  Hills  sought  out 
the  slim  spire  of  Polterham  parish  church  amid  a  tract 
of  woodland,  mead  and  tillage;  now  the  site  of  the 
thriving  little  borough  was  but  too  distinctly  marked 
by  trails  of  smoke  from  several  gaunt  chimneys — that 
of  Messrs.  Dimes  &  Nevison's  blanket-factory,  that 
of  Quarrier  &  Son's  sugar-refinery,  and,  higher  still 
(said,  indeed,  to  be  one  of  the  tallest  chimneys  in 
England),  that  of  Thomas  &  Liversedge's  soap-works. 
With  the  character  of  Polterham  itself,  the  Literary 
Institute  had  suffered  a  noteworthy  change.  Ostensibly 
it  remained  non-political:  a  library,  reading-room  and 
lecture-hall,  for  the  benefit  of  all  the  townsfolk;  but  by 


36  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

a  subtle  process  the  executive  authority  had  passed  into 
the  hands  of  new  men  with  new  ideas.  A  mere  enu- 
meration of  the  committee  sufficed  to  frighten  away  all 
who  held  by  Church,  State,  and  Mr.  AVelwyn-Baker:  the 
Institute  was  no  longer  an  Institute,  but  a  "hot-bed." 

How  could  respectable  people  make  use  of  a  library 
which  admitted  works  of  irreligious  and  immoral 
tendency  ?  It  was  an  undoubted  fact  (the  Mercury 
made  it  known)  that  of  late  there  had  been  added  to  the 
catalogue  not  only  the  "Essays  of  David  Hume"  and 
that  notorious  book  Buckle's  "  History  of  Civilization," 
but  even  a  large  collection  of  the  writings  of  George 
Sand  and  Balzac — these  latter  in  the  original  tongue; 
for  who,  indeed,  would  ever  venture  to  publish  an 
English  translation  ?  As  for  the  reading-room,  was  it 
not  characterization  enough  to  state  that  two  Sunday 
newspapers,  reeking  fresh  from  Fleet  Street,  regularly 
appeared  on  the  tables  ?  What  possibility  of  perusing 
the  Standard  or  the  Siiectator  in  such  an  atmosphere  ? 
It  was  clear  that  the  supporters  of  law  and  decency 
must  bestir  themselves  to  establish  a  new  Society.  Mr. 
Mumbray,  long  prominent  in  the  municipal  and 
political  life  of  the  town,  had  already  made  the  generous 
offer  of  a  large  house  at  a  low  rental — one  of  the 
ancient  buildings  which  had  been  spoilt  for  family 
residence  by  the  erection  of  a  mill  glose  by.  The 
revered  Member  for  the  borough  was  willing  to  start 
the  new  library  with  a  gift  of  one  hundred  volumes  of 
"sterling  literature."  With  dissolution  of  Parliament 
in  view,  not  a  day  should  be  lost  in  establishing  this 
centre  of  intellectual  life  for  right-thinking  inhabitants. 
It  was  a  strange  thing,  a  very  strange  thing  indeed, 
that  interlopers  should  have  been  permitted  to  oust  the 


DEXZIL  QUARRIER  37 

wealth  and  reputability  of  Polterhaiu  from  an  Institute 
which  ought  to  have  been  one  of  the  bulwarks  of 
Conservatism.  Laxity  in  the  original  constitution, 
and  a  spirit  of  supine  confidence,  had  led  to  this  sad 
result.  It  seemed  impossible  that  Polterham  could  ever 
fall  from  its  honourable  position  among  the  Conser- 
vative strongholds  of  the  country;  but  the  times  were 
corrupt,  a  revolutionary  miasma  was  spreading  to 
every  corner  of  the  land.  Polterham  must  no  longer 
repose  in  the  security  of  conscious  virtue,  for  if  it  did 
happen  that,  at  the  coming  election,  the  unprincipled 
multitude  even  came  near  to  achieving  a  triumph,  oh 
what  a  fall  were  there ! 

Thus  spoke  the  Mercury.  And  in  the  same  week  Mr. 
Mumbray's  vacant  house  was  secured  by  a  provisional 
committee  on  behalf  of  the  Polterham  Constitutional 
Literary  Society. 

The  fine  old  crusted  party  had  some  reason  for  their 
alarm.  Since  Polterham  was  a  borough  it  had  returned 
a  Tory  Member  as  a  ■  matter  of  course.  Political 
organization  was  quite  unknown  to  the  supporters  of 
Mr.  Welwyn-Baker;  such  trouble  had  never  seemed 
necessary.  Through  the  anxious  year  of  1868  Mr. 
Welwyn-Baker  sat  firm  as  a  rock;  an  endeavour  to 
unseat  him  ended  amid  contemptuous  laughter.  In 
1874  the  high-tide  of  Toryism  caused  only  a  slight 
increase  of  congratulatory  gurgling  in  the  Polterham 
backwater;  the  triumphant  party  hardly  cared  to 
notice  that  a  Liberal  candidate  had  scored  an  unpre- 
cedented proportion  of  votes.  Welwyn-Baker  sat  on, 
stolidly  oblivious  of  the  change  that  was  affecting 
his  constituency,  denying  indeed  the  possibility  of 
mutation  in  human  things.     Yet  even  now  the  Literary 


1698(JG 


38  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

Institute  was  passing  into  the  hands  of  people  who 
aimed  at  making  it  something  more  than  a  place 
where  retired  tradesmen  could  play  draughts  and  doze 
over  Good  IVords  /  already  had  offensive  volumes  found 
harbourage  on  the  shelves,  and  revolutionary  periodicals 
been  introduced  into  the  reading-room.  From  time  to 
time  the  Mercury  uttered  a  note  of  warning,  of  protest, 
but  with  no  echo  from  the  respectable  middle-class 
abodes  where  Polterham  Conservatism  dozed  in  self- 
satisfaction.  It  needed  another  five  years  of  Liberal 
activity  throughout  the  borough  to  awaken  the  good 
people  whose  influence  had  seemed  unassailable,  and 
to  set  them  uttering  sleepy  snorts  of  indignation.  But 
the  Mercury  had  a  new  editor,  a  man  who  was  deter- 
mined to  gain  journalistic  credit  by  making  a  good 
fight  in  a  desperate  cause.  Mr.  Mumbray,  who  held 
the  post  of  Mayor,  had  at  length  learnt  that  even  in 
municipal  matters  the  old  order  was  threatened;  on 
the  Town  Council  were  several  men  who  gave  a  great 
deal  of  trouble,  and  who  openly  boasted  that  in  a  very 
short  time  all  the  affairs  of  the  town  would  be  managed 
by  members  of  the  Progressive  party.  If  so,  farewell 
public  morality!  farewell  religion! 

Tlie  reading-room  of  the  Literary  Institute  heard 
many  an  animated  conversation  among  the  zealous 
partisans  who  hoped  great  things  from  the  approaching 
contest.  The  talkers  were  not  men  of  recognized 
standing,  the  manufacturers  and  landowners  whose 
influence  was  of  most  importance — for  these  personages 
were  seldom  seen  at  the  Institute ;  but  certain  "  small " 
people,  fidgety,  or  effervescent,  or  enthusiastic,  eager  to 
hear  their  own  voices  raised  in  declamation,  and  to  get 
spoken  of  in  the  town  as  representatives   of  public 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  39 

opinion.  Such  a  group  had  gathered  early  one  after- 
noon in  this  month  of  October.  The  hour  was  unusual, 
for  between  one  o'clock  and  four  the  reading-room  was 
generally  abandoned  to  a  few  very  quiet,  somnolent 
persons;  but  to-day  an  exciting  piece  of  news  had  got 
about  in  Polterham,  and  two  or  three  ardent  politicians 
hastened  from  their  dinner-tables  to  discuss  the  situation 
with  Mr.  Wykes,  secretary  of  the  Institute,  or  any  one 
else  Avho  might  present  himself.  It  was  reported  that 
Mr.  Welwyn-Baker  had  had  a  seizure  of  some  kind, 
and  that  he  lay  in  a  dangerous  state  at  his  house  just 
outside  the  town. 

"  It's  perfectly  true,"  affirmed  Mr.  AVykes.  "  I  saw 
Dr.  Staple  on  his  way  there.  He'll  never  survive  it.  We 
shall  have  a  bye-election — the  very  last  thing  desirable." 

The  Secretary  was  a  man  of  intelligent  features  but 
painfully  distorted  body;  his  right  leg,  permanently 
bent  double,  was  supported  at  the  knee  by  metal 
mechanism,  and  his  arm  on  the  opposite  side  ended  at 
the  elbow.  None  the  less  he  moved  with  much  activity, 
gesticulated  frequently  with  the  normal  arm,  and 
seemed  always  to  be  in  excellent  spirits.  He  was  a 
Cambridge  graduate,  but  had  never  been  able  to  make 
much  use  of  his  education  and  abilities;  having  reached 
middle  age,  and  finding  himself  without  resources,  he 
was  glad  to  accept  this  post  at  the  Institute. 

About  him  stood  three  Polterham  worthies:  Mr. 
Chown,  draper,  a  member  of  the  Corporation;  Mr. 
Vawdrey,  coal-merchant;  and  Mr.  Murgatroyd,  dentist. 
The  draper — tall,  bearded,  with  goggle  eyes  and 
prominent  cheek-bones — had  just  rushed  in;  as  soon 
as  Mr.  Wykes  had  spoken,  he  exclaimed  in  a  hard, 
positive  voice: 


40  PENZIL   QUARRIER 

"It's  nothing!  it's  nothing!  I  have  it  on  the  best 
assurance  tliat  it  was  only  a  fall  over  a  footstool. 
Muscles  strained — a  bruise  or  two — nothing  worse." 

"I'm  very  glad  to  hear  it,  on  every  ground,"  said 
Wykes.  "But  even  if  that  is  quite  correct,  it'll  be  a 
warning.  A  fall  at  that  age  generally  dates  the  begin- 
ning of  decrepitude.  He  won't  come  forward  again — 
I'm  convinced  he  won't." 

"  Let  us  hope  they'll  be  foolish  enough  to  set  up  his 
son,"  remarked  Mr.  Vawdrey,  in  deep  tones,  which 
harmonized  with  his  broad,  stunted  body  and  lowering 
visage.     "  It'll  be  their  ruin." 

Mr,  Wykes  agreed. 

"The  waverers  can  hardly  doubt — between  Tobias 
Liversedge  and  Hugh  Welwyn-Baker," 

"Bear  in  mind,"  rang  Mr.  Chown's  brassy  voice, 
"  that  it's  by  no  means  certain  Liversedge  is  to  be  our 
candidate.  I  am  in  a  position  to  assure  you  that 
many  of  our  most  reliable  men  are  not  at  all  satisfied 
with  that  choice — not  at  all  satisfied.  I  don't  mind 
going  so  far  as  to  declare  that  I  share  this  dis- 
satisfaction." 

"Keally,"  put  in  Murgatroyd,  the  dentist,  "it's 
rather  late  in  the  day,  Mr.  Chown  " 

His  accents  of  studious  moderation  were  interrupted 
by  a  shout  from  the  dogmatic  draper. 

"  Late  ?  late  ?  I  consider  that  nothing  whatever 
has  been  decided.  I  protest — I  protest,  most  emphati- 
cally, against  any  attempt  to  force  a  candidate  on  the 
advanced  section  of  the  Liberal  party !  I  will  even  go 
so  far  as  to  say — purely  on  my  own  responsibility — 
that  the  advanced  section  of  the  Liberal  party  is  the 
essence  of  the  Liberal  party,  and  must  be  recognized  as 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  41 

such,  if  we  are  to  fight  this  campaign  in  union,  I 
personally — I  speak  for  myself — do  not  feel  prepared  to 
vote  for  Tobias  Liversedge.  I  say  it  boldly,  caring  not 
who  may  report  my  words.  I  compromise  no  man, 
and  no  body  of  men ;  but  my  view  is  that,  if  we  are  to 
win  the  next  election  against  the  Tory  candidate,  it 
must  be  with  the  help,  and  in  the  name,  of  a  Radical 
candidate ! " 

At  the  close  of  each  period  Mr.  Chown  raised  his 
hand  and  made  it  vibrate  in  the  air,  his  head  vibrating 
in  company  therewith.  His  eyes  glared,  and  his  beard 
wagged  up  and  down. 

"Speaking  as  an  individual,"  replied  Mr.  Murga- 
troyd,  who,  among  other  signs  of  nervousness,  had  the 
habit  of  constantly  pulling  down  his  waistcoat,  "I 
can't  say  that  I  should  regret  to  be  called  upon  to  vote 
for  a  really  advanced  man.  But  I  may  say — I  really 
must  say — and  I  think  Mr,  Wykes  will  support  me — 
I  think  Mr.  Vawdrey  will  bear  me  out — that  it  wouldn't 
be  easy  to  find  a  candidate  who  would  unite  all 
suffrages  in  the  way  that  Mr.  Liversedge  does.  We 
have  to  remember  " 

"  Well,"  broke  in  the  coal-mercliant,  with  his  muffled 
bass,  "  if  any  one  cares  to  know  what  I  think,  I  should 
say  that  we  want  a  local  man,  a  popular  man,  and  a 
Christian  man.  I  don't  know  whom  you  would  set  up 
in  preference  to  Liversedge;  but  Liversedge  suits  me 
well  enough.  If  the  Tories  are  going  to  put  forward 
such  a  specimen  as  Hugh  Welwyn-Baker,  a  gambler, 
a  drinker,  and  a  profligate,  I  don't  know,  I  say,  who 
would  look  better  opposed  to  him  than  Toby  Liver- 
sedge." 

Mr.  Chown  could  not  restrain  himself. 


42  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  I  fail  altogether  to  see  what  Christianity  has  to  do 
with  politics!  Christianity  is  all  very  well,  but  where 
will  you  find  it?  Old  Welwyn-Baker  calls  himself  a 
Christian,  and  so  does  his  son.  And  I  suppose  the 
Eev.  Scatchard  Vialls  calls  himself  a  Christian! 
Let  us  have  done  with  this  disgusting  hypocrisy! 
I  say  with  all  deliberation — I  affirm  it — that 
Kadicalism  must  break  with  religion  that  has 
become  a  sham!  Radicalism  is  a  religion  in  itself. 
We  have  no  right — no  right,  I  say— to  impose  any 
such  test  as  Mr.  Vawdrey  insists  upon ! " 

"I  won't  quarrel  about  names,"  returned  Vawdrey, 
stolidly.  "  AVhat  I  meant  to  say  was  that  we  must  have 
a  man  of  clean  life,  a  moral  man." 

"  And  do  you  imply,"  cried  Chown,  "  that  such  men 
are  hard  to  find  among  Radicals  ?  " 

"  I  rather  think  they're  hard  to  find  anywhere  nowa- 
days." 

Mr.  Wykes  had  made  a  gesture  requesting  attention, 
and  was  about  to  speak,  when  a  boy  came  up  to  him 
and  held  out  a  telegi-am. 

"What's  this?"  murmured  the  Secretary,  as  he 
opened  the  envelope.  "Well,  well,  how  very  annoy- 
ing !  Our  lecturer  of  to-morrow  evening  can't  possibly 
keep  his  engagement.  No  reason  given;  says  he  will 
write." 

"  Another  blank  evening ! "  exclaimed  Chown.  "  This 
is  most  unsatisfactory,  I  must  say." 

"  We  must  fill  it  up,"  replied  the  Secretary.  "  I  have 
an  idea;  it  connects  with  something  I  was  on  the  point 
of  saying."  He  looked  round  the  room  caiitiously,  but 
saw  only  a  young  lad  bent  over  an  illustrated  paper. 
"  There  is  some  one,"  he  continued,  subduing  his  voice. 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  43 

"  who  might  possibly  be  willing  to  stand  if  Mr.  Liver- 
sedge  isn't  finally  adopted  as  our  candidate — some  one 
who,  in  my  opinion,  would  suit  us  very  well  indeed.  I 
am  thinking  of  young  Mr.  Quarrier,  Liversedge's 
brother-in-law,  Mr.  Sam  Quarrier's  nephew." 

"  I  can't  say  I  know  much  for  or  against  him,"  said 
the  draper. 

"  A  barrister,  I  believe  ?  "  questioned  Murgatroyd. 

"  Yes,  but  not  practising  his  jirofession.  I  happened 
to  meet  him  in  the  train  yesterday;  he  was  coming  to 
spend  a  few  daws  with  his  relatives.  It  occurs  to  me 
that  he's  the  man  to  give  us  a  lecture  to-morrow  even- 
ing." 

The  others  lent  ear,  and  Mr.  Wykes  talked  at  some 
length  of  Mr.  Denzil  Quarrier,  with  whom  he  had  a 
slight  personal  acquaintance  dating  from  a  year  or  two 
ago.  He  represented  that  the  young  man  was  of  late 
become  wealthy,  that  he  was  closely  connected  with 
people  in  high  local  esteem,  that  his  views  were  those  of 
a  highly  cultured  Eadical.  Mr.  Chown,  distrustful 
regarding  any  proposition  that  did  not  originate  with 
himself,  meditated  with  some  intensity.  Mr.  Vawdrey's 
face  indicated  nothing  whatever.  It  was  the  dentist 
who  put  the  first  question. 

"  I  should  like  to  know,"  he  said,  in  his  usual  voice 
of  studied  inoffensiveness,  "  whether  Mr.  Quarrier  is 
disposed  to  support  the  Female  Suffrage  movement  ?  " 

"  If  he  is,"  growled  Mr.  Vawdrey,  with  sudden  em- 
phasis, "he  mustn't  expect  my  vote  and  interest. 
We've  seen  enough  in  Polterham  lately  of  the  Female 
question." 

"  Let  it  wait !  Let  it  wait !  "  came  from  the  draper. 
**The   man,"   he   glared  at  little    Murgatroyd,   "who 


44  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

divides  his  party  on  matters  of  detail,  beyond  the 
range  of  practical  jjolitics,  is  an  enemy  of  popular 
progress.  What  /  should  desire  to  know  is,  whether 
Mr.  Quarrier  will  go  in  heartily  for  Church  Disestab- 
lishment ?  If  not — well,  I  for  my  humble  self  must 
decline  to  consider  him  a  Radical  at  all." 

"That,  it  seems  to  me."  began  the  dentist,  "is  dis- 
tinctly beyond  " 

But  politic  Mr.  Wykes  interrupted  the  discussion. 

"  I  shall  go  at  once,"  he  said,  "  and  try  to  see  Mr. 
Quarrier.  A  lecture  to-morrow  we  must  have,  and  I 
think  he  can  be  persuaded  to  help  us.  If  so,  we  shall 
have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  what  figure  he  makes  on 
the  platform." 

Mr.  Vawdrey  looked  at  his  watch  and  hurried  away 
without  a  word.  The  draper  and  the  dentist  were 
each  reminded  of  the  calls  of  business.  In  a  minute  or 
two  the  youth  dozing  over  an  illustrated  paper  had  the 
room  to  himself. 


For  a  characteristic  scene  of  English  life  one  coixld 
not  do  better  than  take  Mr.  Liversedge's  dining-room 
when  the  family  had  assembled  for  the  midday  meal. 
Picture  a  long  and  lofty  room,  lighted  by  windows 
which  opened  upon  a  lawn  and  flower-garden,  adorned 
with  large  oil  paintings  (cattle-pieces  and  portraits)  in 
massive  and,  for  the  most  part,  tarnished  frames,  and 
furnished  in  the  solidest  of  British  styles — mahogany 
chairs  and  table,  an  immense  sideboard,  a  white  marble 
fireplace,  and  a  chandelier  hanging  with  ponderous 
menace  above  the  gleaming  expanse  of  table-cloth. 
Here  were  seated  eleven  persons:  Mr.  Liversedge  and 
his  wife,  their  seven  children  (four  girls  and  three  boys). 
Miss  Pope  the  governess,  and  Mr.  Denzil  Quarrier; 
waited  upon  by  two  maid-servants,  with  ruddy  cheeks, 
and  in  spotless  attire.  Odours  of  roast  meat  filled  the 
air.  There  was  a  jolly  sound  of  knife-and-fork  I3lay, 
of  young  voices  laughing  and  chattering,  of  older  ones 
in  genial  colloquy.  A  great  fire  blazed  and  crackled 
up  the  chimney.  AVithout,  a  roaring  wind  stripped  the 
autumnal  leafage  of  the  garden,  and  from  time  to  time 
drenched  the  Avindows  with  volleys  of  rain. 

Tobias  Liversedge  was  a  man  of  substance,  but  in 
domestic  habits  he  followed  the  rule  of  the  unpreten- 
tious middle-class.     Breakfast  at  eiglit,  dinner  at  one. 


46  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

tea  at  five,  supper  at  nine— such  was  the  order  of  the 
day  that  he  had  known  in  boyhood,  and  it  suited  him 
well  enough  now  that  he  was  at  the  head  of  a 
household.  The  fare  was  simple,  but  various  and 
abundant;  no  dishes  with  foreign  names,  no  drinks 
more  luxurious  than  sherry  and  claret.  If  he  enter- 
tained guests,  they  were  people  of  his  own  kind,  who 
thought  more  of  the  hearty  welcome  than  of  what  was 
set  before  them.  His  children  were  neither  cockered 
nor  held  in  too  strait  a  discipline;  they  learnt  from 
their  parents  that  laughter  was  better  than  sighing, 
that  it  was  good  to  be  generous,  that  they  had  superiors 
in  the  world  as  well  as  inferiors,  that  hard  work  was  the 
saving  grace,  and  a  lie  the  accursed  thing.  This  train- 
ing seemed  to  agree  with  them,  for  one  and  all  were 
pictures  of  health.  Tom,  the  first-born,  numbered 
fifteen  years;  Daisy,  the  latest  arrival,  had  seen  but 
three  summers,  yet  she  already  occupied  a  high  chair 
at  the  dinner-table,  and  conducted  herself  with  much 
propriety.  The  two  elder  boys  went  to  the  Grammar 
School  morning  and  afternoon;  for  the  other  children 
there  was  Miss  Pope,  with  her  smile  of  decorum,  eyes 
of  intelligence,  and  clear,  decided  voice. 

Mrs.  Liversedge  was  obviously  Denzil  Quarrier's 
sister;  she  had  his  eyes  and  his  nose — not  uncomely 
features.  It  did  not  appear  that  her  seven  children 
were  robust  at  their  mother's  expense;  she  ate  with 
undisguised  appetite,  laughed  readily  (just  showing 
excellent  teeth),  and  kept  a  shapely  figure,  clad  with 
simple  becomingness.  Her  age  was  about  eight-and- 
thirty,  that  of  her  husband  forty-five.  This  couple— if 
any  in  England — probably  knew  the  meaning  of  happi- 
ness,    Neither  had  experienced  narrow  circumstances, 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  47 

and  the  future  could  but  confirm  their  security  from 
sordid  cares.  Even  if  seven  more  children  were  added 
to  their  family,  all  would  be  brought  up  amid  abun- 
dance, and  sent  forth  into  the  world  as  Avell  equipped 
for  its  struggles  as  the  tenderest  heart  could  desire. 
Father  and  mother  Avere  admirably  matched;  they 
knew  each  other  perfectly,  thought  the  same  thoughts 
on  all  essential  matters,  exchanged  the  glances  of  an 
absolute  and  unshakeable  confidence. 

Seeing  him  thus  at  the  end  of  his  table,  one  would 
not  have  thought  Mr.  Liversedge  a  likely  man  to  stand 
forth  on  political  platforms  and  appeal  to  the  populace 
of  the  borough  for  their  electoral  favour.  He  looked 
modest  and  reticent ;  his  person  was  the  reverse  of  com- 
manding. A  kind  and  thoughtful  man,  undoubtedly; 
but  in  his  eye  was  no  gleam  of  ambition,  and  it  seemed 
doubtful  whether  he  would  care  to  trouble  himself 
much  about  questions  of  public  policy.  Granted  his 
position  and  origin,  it  was  natural  enough  that  he 
should  take  a  stand  on  the  Liberal  side,  but  it  could 
hardly  be  expected  that  he  should  come  up  to  Mr. 
Chown's  ideal  of  a  Progressive  leader. 

He  was  talking  lightly  on  the  subject  with  his 
brother-in-law. 

"I  should  have  thought,"  he  said,  "that  William 
Glazzard  might  have  had  views  that  way.  He's  a  man 
with  no  ties  and,  I  should  say,  too  much  leisure." 

"Oh,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Liversedge,  "the  idea  of  his 
getting  up  to  make  speeches!  It  always  seems  to  mc 
as  if  he  found  it  a  trouble  even  to  talk.  His  brother 
would  be  far  more  likely,  wouldn't  he,  Denzil  ?  " 

"  What,  Eustace  Glazzard  ?  "  replied  Quarrier.  "  He 
regards  Parliament  and  everything  connected  with  it, 


48  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

with  supreme  contempt.  Suggest  the  thing  when  he 
comes  this  evening,  and  watch  his  face." 

"  What  is  he  doing  ?  "  Mr.  Liversedge  asked. 

"Collecting  pictures,  playing  the  fiddle,  gazing  at 
sunflowers,  and  so  on.     He'll  never  do  anything  else." 

"  How  contradictory  you  are  in  speaking  about 
him !  "  said  his  sister.  "  One  time  you  seem  to  admire 
and  like  him  extremely,  and  another  " 

''  Why,  so  I  do.  A  capital  fellow !  He's  weak,  that's 
all.  I  don't  mean  weak  in  the  worst  way,  you  know;  a 
more  honourable  and  trustworthy  man  doesn't  live.  But 
— well,  he's  rather  womanish,  I  suppose." 

Mrs.  Liversedge  laughed. 

"  Many  thanks !  It's  always  so  pleasing  to  a  woman 
to  hear  that  comparison.  Do  you  mean  he  reminds  you 
of  Mrs.  Wade  ?  " 

The  boy  Tom,  who  had  been  attentive,  broke  into 
merriment. 

"  Uncle  Denzil  wouldn't  dare  to  have  said  it  in  her 
presence !  "  he  cried. 

"  Perhaj)s  not,"  conceded  Denzil,  with  a  smile.  "  By- 
the-bye,  is  that  wonderful  person  still  in  Polterham  ?  " 

"Oh  yes!"  Mrs.  Liversedge  replied.  "She  has  been 
very  prominent  lately." 

"How?" 

The  lady  glanced  at  her  husband,  who  said  quietly, 
"  We'll  talk  it  over  some  other  time." 

But  Tom  was  not  to  be  repressed. 

"Mother  means  that  Revivalist  business,"  he  ex- 
claimed.    "  Mrs.  Wade  went  against  it." 

"My  boy,  no  meddling  with  things  of  that  kind," 
said  his  father,  smiling,  but  firm.  He  turned  to  Denzil. 
"Has  Glazzard  exhibited  anything  lately  ?" 


DENZIL  QrARRIER  49 

"No;  he  gave  up  his  modelliug,  and  he  doesn't 
seem  to  paint  much  nowadays.  The  poor  fellow  has  no 
object  in  life,  that's  the  worst  of  it." 

The  meal  was  nearly  at  an  end,  and  presently  the 
two  men  found  themselves  alone  at  the  table.  Mr. 
Liversedge  generally  smoked  a  cigar  before  returning 
for  an  hour  or  two  to  the  soap-works. 

"Any  more  wine?"  he  asked.  "Then  come  into  my 
snuggery  and  let  us  chat." 

They  repaired  to  a  room  of  very  homely  appearance. 
The  furniture  was  old  and  ugly;  the  carpet  seemed  to 
have  been  beaten  so  often  that  it  was  growing  thread- 
bare by  force  of  purification.  There  was  a  fair 
collection  of  books,  none  of  very  recent  date,  and  on 
the  walls  several  maps  and  prints.  The  most  striking 
object  was  a  great  stuifed  bird  that  stood  in  a  glass-case 
before  the  window — a  capercailzie  shot  by  Quarrier 
long  ago  in  Norway,  and  presented  to  his  brother-in- 
law.  Tobias  settled  himself  in  a  chair,  and  kicked  a 
coal  from  the  bars  of  the  grate. 

"Tom  is  very  strong  against  religious  fanaticism," 
he  said,  laughing.  "I  have  to  pull  him  up  now  and 
then,  I  suppose  you  heard  about  the  crazy  goings-on 
down  here  in  the  summer  ?  " 

"  Not  I,     Eevivalist  meetings  ?  " 

."The  whole  town  was  turned  upside  down.  Such 
frenzy  among  the  women  I  never  witnessed.  Three 
times  a  day  they  flocked  in  swarms  to  the  Public  Hall, 
and  there  screeched  and  wept  and  fainted,  till  it  really 
looked  as  if  some  authority  ought  to  interfere.  If  I 
had  had  my  way,  I  would  have  drummed  the  preachers 
out  of  the  town.  Mary  and  Mrs.  Wade  and  one  or  two 
others  were  al)out  the   only  women  who  escaped   the 


50  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

epidemic.  Seriously,  it  led  to  a  good  deal  of  domestic 
misery.  Poor  Tomkins's  wife  drove  him  to  such  a  pass 
by  her  scandalous  neglect  of  the  house,  that  one  morning 
he  locked  her  into  her  bedroom,  and  there  he  kept  her 
on  very  plain  diet  for  three  days.  We  thought  of 
getting  up  a  meeting  to  render  public  thanks  to 
Tomkins,  and  to  give  him  some  little  testimonial." 

Denzil  uttered  roars  of  laughter;  the  story  was 
exactly  of  the  kind  tliat  made  appeal  to  his  humorous 
instincts. 

"  Has  the  ferment  subsided  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Tolerably  well ;  leaving  a  good  deal  of  froth  and 
scum,  however.  The  worst  of  it  was  that,  in  the  very 
week  when  those  makebates  had  departed,  there  came 
down  on  us  a  second  plague,  in  the  shape  of  Mrs. 
Hitchin,  the  apostle  of — I  don't  quite  know  Avhat, 
but  she  calls  it  Purity.  Of  course,  you  know  her  by 
repute.  She,  too,  had  the  Public  Hall,  and  gave 
addresses  to  which  only  women  were  admitted.  I  have 
a  very  strong  opinion  as  to  the  tendency  of  those 
addresses,  and  if  Eabelais  had  come  to  life  among  us 
just  then — but  never  mind.  The  fact  is,  old  Polterham 
got  into  a  thoroughly  unwholesome  condition,  and 
we're  anything  but  right  yet.  Perhaps  a  little  honest 
fighting  between  Liberal  and  Tory  may  help  to  clear 
the  air. — Well,  now,  that  brings  me  to  what  I  really 
wish  to  talk  about.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  don't  feel 
half  satisfied  with  what  I  have  done.  My  promise  to 
stand,  you  know,  was  only  conditional,  and  I  think  I 
must  get  out  of  it." 

"Why?" 

"Mary  was  rather  tickled  with  the  idea  at  first; 
naturally  she  had  no  objection  to  be  Mrs.  M.P.,  and 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  51 

she  persuaded  herself  that  I  was  Just  the  man  to 
represent  Polterham.  I  felt  rather  less  sure  of  it, 
and  now  I  am  getting  pretty  well  convinced  that  I 
had  better  draw  back  before  I  make  a  fool  of 
myself." 

"  What  about  your  chances  ?  Is  there  any  hope  of 
a  majority  ?  " 

"  That's  more  than  I  can  tell  you.  The  long-headed 
men,  like  your  uncle  Sam  (an  unwilling  witness)  and 
Edward  Coke,  say  that  the  day  has  come  for  the 
Liberals.  I  don't  know,  but  I  suspect  that  a  really 
brisk  and  popular  man  might  carry  it  against  either  of 
the  Welwyn-Bakers.  That  fellow  Hugh  will  never 
do — by  the  way,  that  might  be  the  beginning  of  an 
election  rhyme!  He's  too  much  of  a  blackguard,  and 
nowadays,  you  know,  even  a  Tory  candidate  must 
preserve  the  decencies  of  life." 

Denzil  mused,  and  muttered  something  indistinct. 

"Now  listen,"  pursued  the  speaker,  shifting  about  in 
his  chair.  "What  I  want  to  say  is  this:  why  shouldn't 
you  come  forward  ?  " 

Quarrier  pursed  his  lips,  knit  his  brows,  and 
grunted. 

"I  am  very  serious  in  thinking  that  you  might  be 
the  best  man  we  could  find." 

And  Mr.  Liversedge  went  on  to  exhibit  his  reasons 
at  some  length.  As  he  listened,  Denzil  became 
restless,  crossing  and  recrossing  his  legs,  spreading  his 
shoulders,  smiling,  frowning,  coughing;  and  at  length 
he  jumped  up. 

"  Look  here,  Toby ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  is  this  a  self- 
denying  ordinance  ?  Have  you  and  Molly  put  your 
heads  together  to  do  me  what  you  think  a  good  turn?" 


52  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  I  haven't  spoken  to  lier,  I  assure  you.  1  am 
sincere  in  saying  that  I  don't  wish  to  go  through 
with  it.  And  I  shoukl  be  right  heartily  glad  to  see 
yon  come  out  instead." 

The  face  of  the  younger  man  worked  with  subdued 
excitement.  There  was  a  flush  in  his  cheeks,  and  he 
breathed  rapidly.  The  emotion  that  possessed  him 
could  not  be  altogether  pleasurable,  for  at  moments 
he  cast  his  eyes  about  him  with  a  pained,  almost  a 
desperate  look.  He  walked  up  and  down  with  clenched 
fist,  occasionally  digging  himself  in  the  side. 

"Toby,"  he  burst  out  at  length,  "let  me  think  this 
over!  I  can't  possibly  decide  at  once.  The  notion  is 
absolutely  new  to  me;  I  must  roll  it  about,  and 
examine  it  on  all  sides." 

Mr.  Liversedge  cheerfully  agreed,  and,  after  a  little 
more  talk,  he  went  his  way  to  business,  leaving  Denzil 
alone  in  the  snuggery.  There  sat  the  young  man  in 
deep  but  troubled  meditation.  He  sat  for  nearly  an 
hour.     Then  his  sister  came  in. 

"  Denzil,  you  are  wanted.  Mr.  Wykes  wishes  to  see 
you.     Shall  I  send  him  here  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Wykes !  What  about,  I  wonder  ?  Yes,  let  him 
come." 

A  clumping  was  heard  without,  and  the  bright  face 
of  the  Institute's  Secretary,  so  strongly  in  contrast  with 
his  wretched  body,  presented  itself  in  the  doorway. 
Quarrier  received  him  with  a  friendly  consideration 
due  rather  to  pity  than  to  any  particular  interest  in  the 
man  himself.  He  placed  him  in  a  comfortable  chair, 
and  waited  in  attentive  attitude  for  an  explanation  of 
the  call.  Mr.  Wykes  lost  no  time  in  making  known 
his  business;  he  told  what  had  hai^iJeiied  at  the  Insti- 


DENZIL  QtTARRlER  53 

tute,  and  respectfully  begged  for  Mr.  Quarrier's  aid  in 
averting  disappointment  on  the  next  evening. 

"  I  am  sure,  sir,  that  your  aj^pearance  on  our  platform 
would  give  very  general  pleasure.  I  should  have  time 
to  post  announcements  here  and  there.  AVe  should 
have  a  splendid  hall." 

"The  deuce!  But,  Mr.  Wykes,  it  is  no  such  simple 
matter  to  prepare  a  lecture  in  four-and-twenty  hours. 
What  am  I  to  talk  about  ?  " 

"Any  subject,  sir,  that  would  be  of  interest  to  a 
wide-awake  audience.  If  I  might  suggest,  there  are 
your  travels,  for  instance.  And  I  understand  that  you 
are  deeply  conversant  with  the  Northern  literatures;  I 
am  sure  something  " 

"  Pardon  me.  I  hardly  think  I  should  care  to  go  so 
far  away  for  a  theme." 

The  Secretary  heard  this  with  pleasure. 

"All  the  better,  sir!  Any  subject  of  the  day; 
nothing  could  be  more  acceptable.  You  probably 
know  our  position  at  the  Institute.  In  practice,  we 
are  something  like  a  Liberal  Club.  You  have  heard 
that  the  other  party  are  going  to  start  a  Society  of 
their  own  ?  " 

"  I  have — a  Society  with  an  imbecile  name."  He 
pondered.  "  Suppose  I  were  to  talk  about  '  The 
Position  of  Woman  in  our  Time  '  ?  " 

"Capital,  Mr.  Quarrier!  Couldn't  be  better,  sir!  Do 
permit  me  to  announce  it  at  once!  " 

"  It's  rather  a  ticklish  responsibility  I'm  undertaking 
—but— very  Avell,  I  will  do  my  best,  Mr.  Wykes.  AVho 
is  chairman  ?  " 

"Mr.  William  Glazzard,  sir." 

"IIo  ho!     All   right;    I'll   turn  up  to  time.     Eight 


54  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

o'clock,  I  suppose  ?  Evening  dress,  or  not  ?  Oh,  of 
course,  if  it's  usual;  I  didn't  know  your  custom." 

Mr.  Wykes  did  not  linger.  Left  alone  again,  Denzil 
walked  about  in  excited  mood.  At  length,  with  a  wave 
of  the  arm  which  seemed  to  announce  a  resolution,  he 
went  to  the  drawing-room.  His  sister  was  reading 
there  in  solitude. 

"Molly,  I'm  going  to  lecture  at  the  Institute  to- 
morrow, vice  somebody  or  other  who  can't  turn  up. 
AVhat  subject,  think  you  ?  " 

"  The  Sagas,  probably  ?  " 

"The  Sagas  be  blowed!  'Woman's  Place  in  our 
Time,'  that's  the  title." 

Mrs.  Liversedge  laughed,  and  showed  astonishment. 

"  And  what  have  you  to  say  about  her  ?  " 

"Wait  and  see!" 


VI 


At  the  distance  of  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Polterham 
lay  an  estate  which  had  long  borne  the  name  of  Iligh- 
mead.  Here  had  dwelt  three  successive  generations  of 
Glazzards.  The  present  possessor,  by  name  William, 
was,  like  his  father  and  grandfather,  simply  a  country 
gentleman,  but,  unlike  those  respectable  ancestors,  had 
seen  a  good  deal  of  the  world,  and  only  settled  down 
amid  his  acres  when  he  was  tired  of  wandering.  His 
age  at  present  was  nearing  fifty.  AVhen  quite  a  young 
man,  he  had  married  rather  rashly — a  girl  whose 
acquaintance  he  had  made  during  a  voyage.  In  a  few 
years'  time,  he  and  his  wife  agreed  to  differ  on  a  great 
many  topics  of  moment,  and  consequently  to  live  apart. 
Mrs.  Glazzard  died  abroad.  William,  when  the  desire 
for  retirement  came  upon  him,  was  glad  of  the  society 
of  a  son  and  a  daughter  in  their  early  teens.  But  the 
lad  died  of  consumption,  and  the  girl,  whose  name  was 
Ivy,  for  a  long  time  seemed  to  be  clinging  to  life  with 
but  doubtful  tenure.  She  still  lived,  however,  and  kept 
her  father's  house. 

Ivy  Glazzard  cared  little  for  the  pleasures  of  the 
world — knew,  indeed,  scarcely  more  about  them  than  she 
had  gathered  from  books.  Her  disposition  was  serious, 
inclined  to  a  morbid  melancholy;  she  spent  much  time 
over  devotional  literature,  but  very  seldom  was  heard  to 


56  BENZIL  QUARRIER 

sjieak  of  religion.  Probably  her  father's  avowed  in- 
differentism  imposed  upon  her  a  timid  silence.  When  the 
Kevivalist  services  wore  being  held  in  Polterham,  she 
visited  the  Hall  and  the  chnrches  with  assidnity,  and 
from  that  period  dated  her  friendship  with  the  daughter 
of  Mr.  Mnmbray,  Mayor  of  the  town.  Serena 
Mnmbray  was  so  uncomfortable  at  home  that  she 
engaged  eagerly  in  any  occupation  which  could  excuse 
her  absence  for  as  many  hours  a  day  as  possible. 
Prior  to  the  outbreak  of  Eevivalism  no  one  had 
supposed  her  particularly  pious,  and,  indeed,  she  had 
often  suffered  Mrs.  Mumbray's  rebukes  for  levity  of 
speech  and  indifference  to  the  conventional  norm  of 
feminine  behaviour.  Though  her  parents  had  always 
been  prominent  in  Polterham  society,  she  was  ill- 
educated,  and  of  late  years  had  endeavoured,  in  a 
fitful,  fretful  way,  to  make  amends  to  herself  for  this 
injustice.  Disregarding  paternal  censure,  she  subscribed 
to  the  Literary  Institute,  and  read  at  hap-hazard 
with  little  enough  profit.  Twenty-three  years  old,  she 
was  now  doubly  inde2)endent,  for  the  will  of  a  maiden 
aunt  (a  lady  always  on  the  worst  of  terms  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Mnmbray,  and  therefore  glad  to  encourage 
Serena  against  them)  had  made  her  an  heiress  of  no 
slight  consideration.  Young  men  of  Polterham  regarded 
her  as  the  greatest  prize  within  view,  though  none 
could  flatter  himself  that  he  stood  in  any  sensible 
degree  of  favour  with  her.  There  seemed  no  reason 
why  Miss  Mumbray  should  not  marry,  but  it  was 
certain  that  as  yet  she  behaved  disdainfully  to  all  who 
approached  her  with  the  show  of  intention.  She  was 
not  handsome,  but  had  agreeable  features.  As  though 
to  prove  her  contempt  of  female  vanity  and  vulgar 


DEXZIL   QUAKRIER  5< 

display,  she  dressed  plainly,  often  carelessly — a  fact 
which  of  course  served  to  emphasize  her  importance  in 
the  eyes  of  people  who  tried  to  seem  richer  than  they 
were. 

Miss  Glazzard  rarely  came  into  the  town,  but  Serena 
visited  Highmead  at  least  once  a  week.  According  to 
the  state  of  the  weather,  the  friends  either  sat  talking  in 
Ivy's  room  or  rambled  about  the  grounds,  where  many 
a  pretty  and  sheltered  spot  was  discoverable.  At  such 
times  the  master  of  the  house  seldom  showed  himself, 
and,  on  the  Avhole,  Highmead  reminded  one  of  a  mansion 
left  in  the  care  of  servants  whilst  the  family  are  abroad. 
Miss  Mumbray  was  surprised  when,  on  her  arrival  one 
afternoon,  she  was  conducted  into  the  presence  of  three 
persons,  who  sat  conversing  in  the  large  drawing-room. 
"With  Ivy  and  her  father  was  a  gentleman  whose 
identity  she  could  only  guess;  he  proved  to  be  Mr. 
Eustace  Glazzard,  her  friend's  uncle. 

To  the  greetings  with  which  she  was  received  Serena 
responded  formally.  It  happened  that  her  attire  was 
to-day  even  more  careless  than  usual,  for,  the  weather 
being  wet  and  cold,  she  had  just  thrown  a  cloak  over 
the  frock  in  which  she  lounged  at  home,  and  driven  out  in 
a  cab  with  the  thought  of  stepping  directly  into  Ivy's 
sanctum.  So  far  from  this,  she  found  herself  under  the 
scrutiny  of  two  well-dressed  men,  whose  faces,  however 
courteous,  manifested  the  signature  of  a  critical  spirit. 
The  elder  Mr.  Glazzard  was  bald,  wrinkled,  and  of 
aristocratic  bearing  ;  he  wore  gold-rimmed  glasses, 
which  accentuated  the  keenness  of  his  gaze.  The 
younger  man,  though  altogether  less  formidable,  had  a 
smile  which  Miss  Mumbray  instinctively  resented;  he 
seemed  to  be  regarding  her  with  some  special  interest. 


58  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

and  it  was  clear  that  her  costume  did  not  escape  mental 
comment. 

Ivy  did  her  best  to  overcome  the  restraint  of  the 
situation,  and  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  something  like 
conversation  was  maintained,  but,  of  a  sudden.  Miss 
Mumbray  rose. 

"  We  will  go  to  my  room,"  said  Ivy,  regarding  her 
nervously. 

"  Thank  you,"  was  the  reply,  "  I  mustn't  stay  longer 
to-day." 

"  Oh,  why  not  ?  But  indeed  you  must  come  for  a 
moment;  I  have  something  to  show  you." 

Serena  took  leave  of  the  gentlemen,  and  with  show  of 
reluctance  suffered  herself  to  be  led  to  the  familiar 
retreat, 

"  I'm  afraid  I  have  displeased  you,"  Ivy  addressed 
her,  when  the  door  was  closed.  "  I  ought  to  have  asked 
your  permission." 

"  It  doesn't  matter,  dear — not  a  bit.  But  I  wasn't 
quite  in  the  humour  for — for  that  kind  of  thing.  I 
came  here  for  quietness,  as  I  always  do." 

"  Do  forgive  me!  I  thought — to  tell  the  truth,  it  was 
my  uncle — I  had  spoken  of  you  to  him,  and  he  said  he 
should  so  much  like  to  meet  you." 

"It  really  doesn't  matter;  but  I  look  rather  like  the 
woman  who  comes  to  buy  old  dresses,  don't  I  ?  " 

Ivy  laughed. 

"  Of  course  not ! " 

"And  what  if  I  do?"  exclaimed  the  other,  seating 
herself  by  the  fire.  "  I  don't  know  that  I've  any  claim 
to  look  better  than  Mrs.  Moss.  I  suppose  she  and  I  are 
about  on  a  level  in  understanding  and  education,  if  the 
truth  were  told.     Your  uncle  Avould  see  that,  of  course," 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  59 

"  Now,  don't — don't  !  *'  pleaded  Ivy,  bending  over 
the  chair  and  stroking  her  friend's  shonlder.  "  It's  so 
wrong  of  you,  dear.  My  father  and  Uncle  Eustace  are 
both  quite  capable  of  judging  you  rightly." 

"What  did  you  tell  him  about  me— your  uncle?" 
asked  Serena,  pettishly. 

"  That  you  were  my  friend,  and  that  we  read 
together  " 

"  Oh,  of  course  1     What  else  ?  " 

Ivy  faltered. 

"  I  explained  who  you  Avere." 

"  That  I  had  a  ridiculous  name,  and  was  the 
daughter  of  silly  people  I " 

"  Oh,  it  is  unkind  of  you !  " 

"  Well,  and  what  else  ?     I  insist  on  knowing.  Ivy." 

"  Indeed,  I  didn't  say  one  word  that  you  mightn't 
have  heard  yourself.  I  think  you  can  believe  me, 
dear  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  I  can.  But  then  no  doubt  your  father 
told  him  the  rest,  or  has  done  by  this  time.  There's 
no  harm  in  that.  I  like  people  to  know  that  I  am 
independent.  AYell,  now  tell  me  about  liim.  He  isn't 
a  gi'eat  favourite  of  yours,  is  he  ?  " 

"  No,  not  a  great  favourite."  Ivy  seemed  always  to 
weigh  her  words.  "  I  don't  know  him  very  well.  He 
has  always  lived  in  London,  and  I've  never  seen  him 
more  than  once  a  year.  I'm  afraid  he  doesn't  care 
much  about  the  things  that  I  prize  most,  but  he  is  kind 
and  very  clever,  I  believe.  Father  always  says  he 
might  have  been  a  great  artist  if  he  had  chosen." 

"  Then  why  didn't  he  choose  ?  " 

"  I  can't  say.  So  many  people  seem  to  fall  far  short 
of  what  they  might  have  been," 


60  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

"  Women  do — what  else  can  you  expect  ?  But  men 
are  free.     I  siqjpose  he  is  rich  ?" 

"No,  not  rich.  lie  seems  to  have  enough  for  his 
needs." 

Serena  indulged  her  thoughts. 

"I  felt  I  disliked  him  at  first/''  she  said,  presently. 
"  But  he  is  improved.  He  can  talk  well,  I  should  think. 
I  suppose  he  is  always  in  clever  society  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"And  why  doesn't  he  invite  you  to  London,  and  take 
you  to  see  people  ?  " 

"Oh,  he  knows  me  better  than  that!"  replied  Ivy, 
with  a  laugh. 

AVhilst  the  girls  talked  thus,  Eustace  Glazzard  and 
his  brother  were  also  in  confidential  chat.  ^  They  had 
gone  to  the  library  and  made  themselves  comfortable 
with  cigars — a  cellaret  and  glasses  standing  within 
reach.  The  rooms  at  Highmead  gave  evidence  of  neg- 
lect. Guests  were  seldom  entertained;  the  servants 
were  few,  and  not  well  looked  after. 

"  She  has,  I  dare  say,  thirty  thousand,"  William 
Glazzard  was  saying,  with  an  air  of  indifference.  "  I 
suppose  she'll  marry  some  parson.  Let  us  ho^je  it's  one 
of  the  fifty-pound  curates." 

"  Deep  in  the  old  slough  ?  " 

"Hopelessly— or  Ivy  wouldn't  be  so  thick  with 
her." 

When  he  had  spoken,  William  turned  with  an  ex- 
pressive smile. 

"  Still,  wlio  knoAvs  ?  I  rather  like  the  girl.  She  has 
no  humbug  about  her — no  pretence,  that's  to  say.  You 
see  how  she  dresses." 

"  A  bad  sign,  I'm  afraid." 


DENZIL   QUARRTER  Gl 

"Well,  no,  not  in  this  case,  I  think.  Her  home  ac- 
counts for  it.  That  old  ass,  Mumbray,  and  his  wife 
make  things  pretty  sour  for  her,  as  the  Germans  say; 
at  least,  I  guess  so." 

"I  don't  dislike  her  appearance — intelligent  at  bot- 
tom, I  should  imagine." 

There  followed  a  long  silence.  Eustace  broke  it  by 
asking  softly : 

"  And  how  do  things  go  with  you  ?  " 

"  The  same  as  ever.  Steadily  down-hill.  I  had 
better  let. the  place  before  it  gets  into  a  thoroughly  bad 
state.     And  you  ?" 

His  brother  made  no  answer,  but  sat  with  bent  head. 

"You  remember  Stark,"  he  said  at  length,  "the 
lawyer  ?  He  wants  me  to  stand  for  Polterham  at  the 
next  election." 

"  You  ?     In  place  of  Welwyn-Baker  ?  " 

"No;  as  Liberal  candidate;  or  Kadical,  if  you  like." 

"  You're  joking,  I  suppose ! " 

"  Where's  the  impossibility  ?  " 

Their  eyes  met, 

"There's  no  absurdity,"  said  William,  "in  your 
standing  for  Parliament;  au  contraire.  But  I  can't 
imagine  you  on  the  Radical  side.  And  I  don't  see  the 
necessity  of  that.  Welwyn-Baker  is  breaking  up ;  they 
won't  let  him  come  forward  again,  even  if  he  wishes. 
His  son  is  disliked,  and  would  have  a  very  poor  chance. 
If  you  cared  to  put  yourself  in  touch  with  Mumbray 
and  the  rest  of  them — by  Jove!  I  believe- they  would 
welcome  you,  I  don't  know  of  any- one -but  the  Wel- 
wyn-Bakers  at  all  likely  to  stand," 

"  But,"  objected  his  brother,  "  what's  the  use  of  my 
standing  for  a  party  that  is  pretty  sure  to  be  beaten  ?  '* 


62  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

"You  thiuk  that's  the  case?" 

Eustace  repeated  Mr.  Stark's  opinions,  and  what  he 
had  heard  from  Quarrier.  It  seemed  to  cost  William 
an  effort  to  fix  his  mind  on  the  question;  but  at  length 
he  admitted  that  the  contest  would  probably  be  a  very 
close  one,  even  granting  that  the  Conservatives  secured 
a  good  candidate. 

"That's  as  much  as  to  say,"  observed  his  brother, 
"  that  the  Liberals  stand  to  wun,  as  things  are.  Now, 
there  seems  to  be  no  doubt  that  Liversedge  would 
gladly  withdraw  in  favour  of  a  better  man.  What  I 
want  you  to  do  is  to  set  this  thing  in  train  for  me.  I 
am  in  earnest." 

"You  astonish  me  I  I  can't  reconcile  such  an  ambi- 
tion with  " 

"  No,  no  ;  of  course  not."  Glazzard  spoke  with 
unwonted  animation.  "  You  don't  know  what  my  life 
is  and  has  been.  Look!  I  must  do  something  to  make 
my  blood  circulate,  or  I  shall  furnish  a  case  for  the 
coroner  one  of  these  mornings.  I  want  excitement.  I 
have  taken  up  one  thing  after  another,  and  gone  just 
far  enough  to  understand  that  there's  no  hope  of  reach- 
ing w^hat  I  aimed  at — superlative  excellence;  then  the 
thing  began  to  nauseate  me.  I'm  like  poor  Jackson, 
the  novelist,  who  groaned  to  me  once  that  for  fifteen 
years  the  reviewers  had  been  describing  his  books  as 
*  above  the  average.'  In  whatever  I  have  undertaken 
the  results  were  '  above  the  average,'  and  that's  all. 
This  is  damned  poor  consolation  for  a  man  with  a  tem- 
perament like  mine ! " 

His  voice  broke  down.  He  had  talked  himself  into 
a  tremor,  and  the  exhibition  of  feeling  astonished  his 
brother,  who — as  is  so  often  the  case  between  brothers 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  63 

— had  never  suspected  what  hiy  beneath  the  surface  of 
Eustace's  dilettante  life. 

"  I  can  enter  into  that,"  said  the  elder,  slowly.  "  But 
do  you  imagine  that  in  politics  you  have  found  your 
real  line  ?  " 

"  No  such  thing.  But  it  olfers  me  a  chance  of  living 
for  a  few  years.  I  doir't  ilatter  myself  that  I  could 
make  a  figure  in  the  House  of  Commons;  but  I  want 
to  sit  there,  and  be  in  the  full  current  of  existence.  I 
had  never  dreamt  of  such  a  thing  until  Stark  suggested 
it.  But  he's  a  shrewd  fellow,  and  he  has  guessed  my 
need." 

"What  about  the  financial  matter?"  asked  William, 
after  reflection. 

"  I  see  no  insuperable  difficulty.  You,  I  understand, 
are  in  no  position  to  helj)  me  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  won't  say  that,"  interrupted  the  other.  "A 
few  hundreds  will  make  no  ditference  to  me.  I  suppose 
you  see  your  way  for  the  ordinary  expenses  of  life  ?  " 

"With  care,  yes.  I've  been  throwing  money  away, 
but  that  shall  stop;  there'll  be  no  need  for  it  when  my 
nerves  are  put  in  tone." 

"  Well,  it  strikes  me  in  a  comical  light,  but  you  must 
act  as  you  think  best.  I'll  go  to  work  for  you.  It's  a 
pity  I  stand  so  much  apart,  but  I  suppose  my  name  is 
worth  something.  The  Radicals  have  often  tried  to 
draw  me  into  their  camp,  and  of  course  it's  taken  for 
granted  that  I  am  rather  for  than  against  them. 
By-the-bye,  what  is  the  date  ?  Ah !  that's  fortunate. 
To-morrow  I  am  booked  to  take  the  chair  at  the 
Institute;  a  lecture — I  don't  know  by  whom,  or  about 
what.     A  good  opportunity  for  setting  things  astir." 

"  Then  you  do  take  some  part  in  town  life  ?  " 


64  DENZIL   QUAKKIER 

"Most  exceptional  thing.  I  must  have  refused  to 
lecture  and  to  chainnanize  tAventy  times.  But  those 
fellows  are  persistent ;  they  caught  me  in  a  weak 
moment  a  few  days  ago." 

"  I  suppose  you  realize  the  kind  of  speechifying  that 
would  be  expected  of  you  ?  Are  you  prepared  to  blaze 
away  against  Beaconsfield,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing  ?  " 

"I'm  not  afraid.  There  are  more  sides  to  my 
character  than  you  suppose." 

Eustace  spoke  excitedly,  and  tossed  off  a  glass  of 
liqueur.  His  manner  had  become  more  youthful  tlian 
of  wont;  his  face  showed  more  colour. 

"  The  fact  is/'  he  went  on,  "  if  I  talk  politics  at  all, 
I  can  manage  the  Radical  standpoint  much  more  easily 
than  the  Tory.  I  have  precious  little  sympathy  with 
anything  popular,  that's  true;  but  it's  easier  for  me  to 
adopt  the  heroic  strain  of  popular  leaders  than  to  put 
my  own  sentiments  into  the  language  of  squires  and 
parsons.  I  should  feel  I  Avas  doing  a  baser  thing  if  I 
talked  vulgar  Toryism  than  in  roaring  the  democratic 
note.     Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  I  have  an  inkling  of  what  you  mean." 

Eustace  refilled  the  little  glass. 

"Of  course,"  he  went  on,  "my  true  life  stands 
altogether  outside  popular  contention.  I  am  an  artist, 
though  only  half-baked.  But  I  admit  most  heartily 
that  our  form  of  government  is  a  good  one— the  most 
favourable  that  exists  to  individual  freedom.  AVe  are 
ruled  by  the  balance  of  two  parties;  neither  could  do 
without  the  other.  This  being  the  case,  a  man  of  my 
mind  may  conscientiously  support  either  side.  Nowa- 
days neither  is  a  foe  to  liberty;  we  know  that  party 
tall-talk  means  nothing — mere  playing  to  the  gallery. 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  65 

If  I  throw  whatever  weight  I  represent  into  the  Liberal 
scales,  I  am  only  helping,  like  every  other  Member  of 
Parliament,  to  maintain  the  constitutional  equilibrium. 
You  see,  this  view  is  not  even  cynical;  any  one  might 
proclaim  it  seriously." 

"Yes;  but  don't  do  so  in  Polterham." 

The  other  laughed,  and  at  the  same  moment 
remembered  how  long  it  was  since  such  an  expression 
of  mirth  had  escaped  his  lijDS. 

"  Well,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  feel  better  to-day  than 
for  long  enough.  I've  been  going  through  a  devilish 
bad  time,  I  can  tell  you.  To  make  things  worse, 
some  one  has  fixed  an  infernal  accusation  on  me — an 
abominable  calumny.  I  won't  talk  about  it  now,  but  it 
may  be  necessary  some  day." 

"  Calumny  ? — nothing  that  could  be  made  use  of 
against  yoa  in  public  ? " 

"No  danger  of  that,  I  think.  I  didn't  mean  to 
speak  of  it." 

"You  know  that  a  man  on  the  hustings  must  look 
out  for  mud  ?  " 

"Of  course,  of  course! — How  do  you  spend  your 
afternoons  ?     What  shall  we  do  ?  " 

AVilliam  threw  away  the  end  of  a  cigar,  and  stretched 
himself. 

"I  do  very  little  but  read,"  he  answered.  "A  man 
gets  the  reading  habit,  just  like  the  morphia  habit,  or 
anything  else  of  that  kiiul.  I  think  my  average  is  six 
novels  a  week:  French,  Eussian,  German,  Italian. 
No  English,  unless  I'm  in  need  of  an  emetic.  What 
else  should  I  do  ?  It's  a  way  of  watching  contemporary 
life. — Would  you  like  to  go  and  talk  with  Ivy  ?  Oh,  I 
forgot  that  girl." 


66  DENZIL  QUAERIER 

"You  wouldn't  care  to  ask  some  people  to  dinner 
one  of  these  days — the  right  kind  of  people  ?  " 

"Yes,  yes;  we'll  do  that.  I  must  warn  you  not  to 
talk  much  about  art,  and  above  all  not  to  play  the 
piano.     It  would  make  a  bad  impression." 

"  All  right.  How  shall  I  deal  with  Liversedge  ?  I 
go  there  this  evening,  you  remember." 

"Sound  him,  if  opportunity  offers.  No  hurry,  you 
know.  We  have  probably  several  months  before  us. 
You'll  have  to  live  here  a  good  deal." 

As  the  rain  had  ceased,  they  presently  went  out  into 
the  garden  and  strolled  aimlessly  about. 


VII 

No  sooner  had  Mr.  Liversedge  become  aware  of  his 
brother-ill-law's  promise  to  appear  on  the  platform, 
than  he  despatched  a  note  to  Mr.  Wykes,  recommend- 
ing exceptional  industry  in  spreading  the  announce- 
ment. These  addresses  were  not  commonly  of  a  kind 
to  excite  much  interest,  nor  had  the  name  of  Mr.  Denzil 
Quarrier  any  prestige  in  Polterham;  it  occasioned 
surprise  when  messengers  ran  about  the  town  dis- 
tributing handbills,  which  gave  a  general  invitation 
(independent  of  membership)  to  that  evening's  lecture 
at  the  Institute.  At  the  doors  of  the  building  itself 
was  a  large  placard,  attracting  the  eye  by  its  bold . 
inscription :  "  Woman :  Her  Place  in  Modern  Life  " — 
so  had  the  title  been  ultimately  shaped.  Politicians 
guessed  at  once  that  something  was  in  the  wind,  and 
before  the  afternoon  there  was  a  distinct  rumour  that 
this  young  man  from  London  would  be  brought  for- 
ward as  Liberal  candidate  (Radical,  said  the  Tories)  in 
the  place  of  Mr.  Liversedge,  who  had  withdrawn  his 
name.  The  reading-room  was  beset.  This  chanced  to 
be  the  day  on  which  the  Polterham  Liberal  newspaper 
was  published,  and  at  the  head  of  its  "  general "  column 
appeared  a  long  paragraph  on  the  subject  under  dis- 
cussion. "  At  the  moment  of  going  to  press,  we  learn 
that    unforeseen    circumstances   have    necessitated    a 


68  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

change  in  this  evening's  programme  at  the  Literary 
Institute.  The  indefatigable  Secretary,  Mr.  Wykes,  has 
been  fortunate  enough  to  fill  the  threatened  vacancy, 
and  that  in  a  way  which  gives  promise  of  a  rare 
intellectual  treat."  Then  followed  a  descrij)tion  of 
the  lecturer  (consisting  of  laudatory  generalities,  and 
a  few  sounding  phrases  on  the  subject  he  had  chosen. 
Mr.  Chown,  who  came  and  went  twenty  times  in  the 
course  of  the  day,  talked  to  all  and  sundry  with  his 
familiar  vehemence. 

"  If  it  is  true,"  he  thundered,  "  that  Tobias 
Liversedge  has  already  surrendered  his  place  to  this 
young  man,  I  want  to  know  why  these  things  have 
been  done  in  a  corner  ?  If  you  ask  my  opinion,  it 
looks  uncommonly  like  a  conspiracy.  The  Radical 
electors  of  Polterham  are  not  going  to  be  made  the 
slaves  of  a  secret  caucus!  The  choice  may  be  a  very 
suitable  one.     I  don't  say  " 

"  Then  wait  till  we  know  something  definite," 
growled  Mr.  Vawdrey.  "All  I  can  say  is  that  if  this 
Mr.  Quarrier  is  going  in  for  extreme  views  about 
women,  I'll  have  nothing  to  do  with  him." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  '  extreme  views '  ? " 
screeched  a  thin  man  in  dirty  clothing. 

Thereupon  began  a  furious  controversy,  lasting  half 
an  hour.  (It  may  be  noted  that  a  card  hung  in  several 
parts  of  the  room,  requesting  members  not  to  converse 
in  audible  tones.) 

Mr.  Liversedge  had  gone  to  work  like  a  man  of  de- 
cision. Between  six  and  eight  on  the  previous  evening 
he  had  seen  the  members  of  that  "  secret  caucus " 
whose  existence  outraged  Mr.  Chown — in  other  words, 
the  half-dozen  capable  citizens  who  practically  managed 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  69 

the  affairs  of  Jjiberal  Polterliam — and  had  arrived  at  an 
understanding  with  them  which  made  it  all  but  a  settled 
thing  that  Denzil  Quarrier  should  be  their  prospective 
candidate.  Tobias  was  eager  to  hack  out  of  the  engage- 
ment into  which  he  had  unadvisedly  entered.  Denzil's 
arrival  at  this  juncture  seemed  to  him  providential — 
impossible  to  find  a  better  man  for  their  purpose.  At 
eight  o'clock  an  informal  meeting  was  held  at  the 
office  of  the  PoJferliani  Examiner,  with  the  result  that 
Mr.  Hammond,  the  editor,  subsequently  penned  that 
significant  paragraph  which  next  morning  attracted  all 
eyes. 

On  returning  to  supper,  Mr.  Liversedge  found  his 
wife  and  Denzil  in  conversation  with  Eustace  Glazzard. 
With  the  latter  he  had  a  bare  acquaintance;  from 
Denzil's  report,  he  was  disposed  to  think  of  him  as  a 
rather  effeminate  old-young  man  of  metropolitan  type. 

"Well,"  he  exclaimed,  when  greetings  were  over,  "I 
don't  think  you  will  want  for  an  audience  to-morrow, 
Denzil.  We  are  summoning  Polterham  indiscrimi- 
nately." 

Glazzard  had  of  course  heard  of  the  coming  lecture. 
He  wore  a  smile,  hut  was  taciturn. 

"Pray  heaven  I  don't  make  an  exhibition  of  myself!'' 
cried  Denzil,  with  an  air  of  sufficient  confidence. 

"  Shall  I  send  coffee  to  your  bedroom,  to-night  ? " 
asked  his  sister,  with  merry  eyes. 

"  Too  late  for  writing  it  out.  It  must  be  inspiration. 
I  know  what  I  want  to  say,  and  I  don't  think  the  sea  of 
Polterham  faces  will  disturb  me." 

He  turned  sharply  to  his  brother-in-law. 

"Are  you  still  in  the  same  mind  on  that  matter  we 
spoke  of  this  afternoon  ?  " 


W  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"Decidedly!" 

"Glazzard,  what  should  you  say  if  I  came  forward 
as  Radical  candidate  for  Polterham  ?  " 

There  was  silence.  Glazzard  fixed  his  eyes  on  the 
opposite  wall;  his  smile  was  unchanged. 

"I  see  no  objection,"  he  at  length  replied.  The 
tones  were  rather  thick,  and  ended  in  a  slight 
cough.  Feeling  that  all  eyes  were  fixed  upon  him, 
Glazzard  made  an  uneasy  movement,  and  rose  from  his 
chair. 

"  It  doesn't  astonish  you  ? "  said  Quarrier,  with  a 
broad  grin. 

"  Not  overpoweringly." 

"Then  let  us  regard  the  thing  as  -settled.  Mr, 
Liversedge  has  no  stomach  for  the  fight,  and  makes 
room  for  me.  In  a  week's  time  I  shall  be  a  man  of 
distinction." 

In  the  midst  of  his  self-banter  he  found  Glazzard's 
gaze  turned  upon  him  Avitli  steady  concentration. 
Their  eyes  met,  and  Denzil's  expression  became 
graver. 

"  You  will  take  up  your  abode  here  ? "  Glazzard 
asked. 

"  Shortly,"  was  the  reply,  given  with  more  emphasis 
than  seemed  necessary,  and  accompanied  with  an 
earnest  look. 

Again  there  was  silence,  and  before  the  conversation 
could  be  renewed  there  came  a  summons  to  supper. 

A  vivacious  political  dialogue  between  Mr.  Liversedge 
and  his  relative  allowed  Glazzard  to  keep  silence,  save 
when  he  exchanged  a  few  words  with  his  hostess  or 
Miss  Pope.  He  had  a  look  of  extreme  weariness;  his 
eyes  were  heavy  and  without  expression,  the  lines  of 


DEXZIL  QUARRIER  71 

his  face  slack,  siilleu ;  he  seemed  to  maintain  with  diflB- 
culty  his  upright  position  at  the  table,  and  his  eating 
was  only  pretence.  At  the  close  of  the  meal  he  bent 
towards  Mrs.  Liversedge,  declared  that  he  Avas  suffering 
from  an  intolerable  headache,  and  begged  her  to  permit 
his  immediate  dej^arture. 

Denzil  went  with  him  out  into  the  road. 

"  I  could  see  you  were  not  well,"  he  said,  kindly. 
"I  want  to  have  a  long  and  very  serious  talk  with  you; 
it  must  wait  till  after  to-morrow.  You  know,  of  course, 
what  I  have  on  my  mind.  Come  and  hear  my  balder- 
dash if  you  are  all  right  again." 

All  the  next  day  Denzil  was  in  eJitravagant  spirits. 
In  the  morning  he  made  a  show  of  shutting  himself  up 
to  meditate  the  theme  of  his  discourse,  but  his  sister 
presently  saw  him  straying  about  the  garden,  and  as 
soon  as  her  household  duties  left  her  at  leisure  she  was 
called  upon  to  gossip  and  laugh  with  him.  The 
PoUerham  Examine}'  furnished  material  for  endless 
jesting.  In  the  midst  of  a  flow  of  gi'otesque  fancies,  he 
broke  off  to  say : 

"  By-the-bye,  I  shall  have  to  run  over  to  Paris  for  a 
few  weeks." 

"  What  to  do  there  ?  " 

"A  private  affair.  You  shall  hear  about  it  after- 
wards." 

And  he  went  on  with  his  mirthful  fantasia.  This 
mood  had  been  frequent  with  him  in  earlier  years,  and 
his  sister  was  delighted  to  see  that  he  preserved  so  much 
of  youth.  After  all,  it  might  be  that  he  had  found  his 
vocation  ere  it  was  too  late.  Certainly  he  had  the  gift 
of  speech,  and  his  personality  was  not  a  common  one. 
He  might   strike  out  a  special  line  for    himself    in 


'J'2  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

Parliament.  They  must  make  liis  electiou  a  sure 
thing. 

The  lecture  was  at  eight.  About  seven,  Mr.  Liver- 
sedge  and  his  relative  walked  off  to  the  Institute,  and 
entered  the  committee-room.  Two  or  three  gentlemen 
had  already  arrived;  they  were  no  strangers  to  Denzil, 
and  a  lively  conversation  at  once  sprang  up.  In  a  few 
miuutes  the  door  again  opened  to  admit  Mr.  William 
Glazzard.  The  chairman  of  the  evening  came  forward 
with  lounging  steps.  Eegardless  of  the  others  present, 
he  fixed  his  eye  upon  Quarrier,  and  examined  him  from 
head  to  foot.  In  this  case,  also,  introduction  was 
unnecessary. 

"  You  have  lost  no  time,"  he  remarked,  holding  out 
his  hand,  and  glancing  from  the  young  man  to  Mr. 
Liversedge. 

"  Your  brother  has  given  you  a  hint  ? "  said  the 
latter. 

"  Oh  yes !  How  am  I  to  phrase  my  introductory 
remarks  ?  " 

"  Quite  without  reference  to  the  i3olitical  toijic." 

The  others  murmured  an  approval. 

"  Eustace  well  again  ?  ''  asked  Quarrier.  "  He  went 
home  with  a  bad  headache  last  night." 

"  He'll  be  here,"  answered  Mr.  Glazzard,  laconically. 
"  Liversedge,  a  word  with  you." 

The  two  stepped  apart  and  conversed  under  cover  of 
the  chat  that  went  on  in  front  of  the  fire.  Mr.  Glazzard 
merely  wished  for  a  few  hints  to  direct  him  when  he 
introduced  the  lecturer ;  he  was  silent  about  his  brother's 
frustrated  project. 

Fresh  members  of  the  committee  kept  appearing. 
The  room  resounded  with  talk  and  laughter.     Denzil 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  73 

had  a  higher  colour  than  usual,  but  he  seemed  perfectly 
self-possessed;  his  aj^pearauce  and  colloquial  abilities 
made  a  very  favourable  impression.  "  Distinct  improve- 
ment on  friend  Toby/'  whispered  one  committee-man 
to  another;  and  this  was  the  general  oijinion.  Yet 
there  Avas  some  anxiety  regarding  the  address  they 
were  about  to  hear,  Denzil  did  not  look  like  a  man 
who  would  mince  his  words  and  go  half-way  in  his 
opinions.  The  Woman  question  was  rather  a  dangerous 
one  in  Polterham  just  now ;  that  period  of  Eevivalism, 
and  the  subsequent  campaign  of  Mrs.  Hitehin,  had  left 
a  sore  feeling  in  not  a  few  of  the  townsfolk.  An  old 
gentleman  (he  had  known  Denzil  as  a  boy)  ventured  to 
sjDcak  of  this  to  the  lecturer. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  Mr.  Toft,"  was  the  laughing  reply. 
"You  will  stand  amazed  at  my  moderation;  I  am  dead 
against  Female  Suffrage." 

"  That  is  safe,  I  think.  You'll  find  Mrs.  Wade  down 
upon  yoii — but  that  doesn't  matter." 

"  Will  she  attack  me  in  the  hall  ?" 

"No,  no;  we  don't  have  public  discussion;  but  pre- 
pare for  an  assault  to-morrow." 

"  I  shall  enjoy  it ! " 

The  hall  was  rapidly  filling.  Already  twice  as  many 
people  as  attended  an  ordinary  lecture  had  taken  seats, 
and  among  them  were  numerous  faces  altogether  strange 
at  the  Institute,  though  familiar  enough  in  the  streets 
of  Polterham.  Among  early  arrivals  was  Mr.  Samuel 
Quarrier,  Denzil's  uncle,  a  white-headed  but  stalwart 
figure.  He  abominated  Radicalism,  and  was  one  of 
the  very  fcAV  "  new "  men  who  supported  the  old 
political  dynasty  of  the  town.  But  his  countenance 
manifested  no  sour  displeasure;  he  exchanged  cheery 


74  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

greetings  on  all  hands,  and  marched  steadily  to  the 
front  chairs,  his  two  daughters  following.  The  Mayor, 
accompanied  by  his  wife.  Miss  Mumbray,  and  young 
Mr.  Raglan  Mumbray,  was  seen  moving  forward;  he 
acknowledged  salutations  with  a  heavy  bow  and  a  wave 
of  the  hand.  Decidedly  it  was  a  field-day.  From  the 
street  below  sounded  a  constant  roll  of  carriages  and 
clatter  of  hoofs  coming  to  a  standstill  before  the 
Institute.  Never,  perhaps,  had  so  many  peojile  in 
evening  costume  gathered  under  this  roof.  Even  Mr. 
Chown,  the  draper,  though  scoriiful  of  such  foj)peries, 
had  thought  it  due  to  his  position  as  a  town-councillor 
to  don  the  invidious  garb;  he  was  not  disj^osed  to  herd 
among  the  undistinguished  at  the  back  of  the  room. 
Ladies  were  in  great  force,  tliough  many  of  them 
sought  places  with  an  abashed  movement,  not  quite 
sure  whether  what  they  were  about  to  hear  would  be 
strictly  "proper."  One  there  was  who  betrayed  no 
such  tremors;  the  position  she  assumed  was  about  the 
middle  of  the  hall,  and  from  time  to  time  curious  looks 
were  cast  in  that  direction. 

The  clock  pointed  to  eight.  Punctually  to  the 
moment  a  side  door  was  thrown  open,  and  a  procession, 
of  gentlemen  ascended  the  platform.  Members  of  the 
committee  seated  themselves  in  a  row  of  arm-chairs; 
Mr.  William  Glazzard  took  his  place  not  far  from  the 
reading-desk,  and  behind  it  subsided  the  lecturer. 

In  these  instants  Denzil  Quarrier  was  the  prey  of 
sudden  panic.  He  had  imagined  that  his  fortitude 
was  proof  against  stage-fright,  but  between  the  door  and 
his  seat  on  the  platform  he  suffered  horribly.  His 
throat  was  parched  and  constricted ;  his  eyes  dazzled,  so 
that  he  could  see  nothing;  his  limbs  were  mere  auto- 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  75 

raatic  mechanism;  he  felt  as  though  some  one  had  set 
his  ears  on  fire.  He  strove  Avildly  to  recollect  his 
opening  sentences;  but  they  were  gone.  How  was  he 
to  fill  up  a  mortal  hour  with  coherent  talk  when  he 
had  not  command  of  one  phrase?  He  had  often 
reproved  himself  for  temerity,  and  now  the  weakness 
had  brought  its  punishment.  What  possessed  him  to 
run  into  such  a ? 

The  chair-man  had  risen  and  was  speaking.  "Plea- 
sure   introduce Mr.    Denzil    Quarrier, 

not  unknown  to  many  of  you almost 

at  a  moment's  notice much  indebted " 

An  outbreak  of  applause,  and  then  dead  silence. 
The  ticking  of  the  clock  became  audible.  Some 
external  force  took  hold  upon  him,  lifted  him  from  the 
chair,  and  impelled  him  a  few  steps  forward.  Some 
voice,  decidedly  not  his  own,  though  it  appeared  to  issue 
from  his  throat,  uttered  the  words:  "Mr.  Chairman, 
Ladies  and  Gentlemen."  And  before  the  sound  had 
ceased,  there  flashed  into  his  thoughts  a  story  concerning 
an  enlightened  young  lady  of  Stockholm,  who  gave  a 
lecture  to  advance  the  theory  that  woman's  intellect 
suffered  from  the  habit  of  allowing  her  hair  to  grow  so 
long.  It  was  years  since  this  trifle  had  recurred  to  his 
mind;  it  came  he  knew  not  how,  and  he  clutched  at  it 
like  the  drowning  man  at  a  straw.  Before  he  really 
understood  what  he  was  about,  he  had  begun  to  narrate 
the  anecdote,  and  suddenly,  to  his  astonishment,  he  was 
rewarded  with  universal  peals  of  laughter.  The  noise 
dispelled  his  anguish  of  nervousness;  he  drew  a  deep 
breath,  grasped  the  table  before  him,  and  was  able  to 
speak  as  freely  as  if  he  had  been  on  his  own  hearthrug 
in  Clement's  Inn. 


76  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

Make  a  popular  audience  laugh,  and  you  have  a  hold 
upon  its  attention.  Able  now  to  distinguish  the  faces 
that  were  gazing  at  him,  Denzil  perceived  that  he  had 
begun  with  a  lucky  stroke;  the  people  were  in  expec- 
tation of  more  merriment,  and  sat  beaming  with  good- 
humour.  He  saw  the  Mayor  sj^read  himself  and  stroke 
his  beard,  and  the  Mayoress  simper  as  she  caught  a 
friend's  eye.  Now  he  might  venture  to  change  his  tone 
and  become  serious. 

Decidedly,  his  views  Avere  moderate.  From  the 
beginning  he  allowed  it  to  be  understood  that,  what- 
ever might  be  the  effect  of  long  hair,  he  for  one  con- 
sidered it  becoming,  and  was  by  no  means  in  favour  of 
reducing  it  to  the  male  type.  The  young  lady  of 
Stockholm  might  or  might  not  have  been  indebted  for 
her  wider  mental  scope  to  the  practice  of  curtailing  her 
locks,  yet  he  had  known  many  Swedish  ladies  (and 
ladies  of  England,  too)  who,  in  spite  of  lovely  hair, 
managed  to  preserve  an  exquisite  sense  of  the  distinc- 
tions of  womanhood,  and  this  (advanced  opinion  not- 
withstanding) he  maintained  was  the  principal  thing. 
But  the  fact  that  so  many  women  were  nowadays  lifting 
up  their  voices  in  a  demand  for  various  degrees  of 
emancipation  seemed  to  show  that  the  long  tresses  and 
the  flowing  garb  had  really,  by  process  of  civilization, 
come  to  symbolize  certain  traditions  of  inferiority 
which  weighed  upon  the  general  female  consciousness. 
"Let  us,  then,  ask  what  these  traditions  are,  and  what 
is  to  be  said  for  or  against  them  from  the  standpoint 
of  a  liberal  age." 

Denzil  no  longer  looked  with  horror  at  the  face  of  the 
clock ;  his  only  fear  was  lest  the  hands  should  move  too 
rapidly,  and  forbid  him  to  utter  in  spacious  periods  all 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  77 

he  had  on  his  mind.  By  half-past  eight  he  was  in  the 
midst  of  a  vehement  plea  for  an  enlargement  of  female 
education,  in  the  course  of  which  he  uttered  several 
things  rather  disturbing  to  the  nerves  of  Mrs.  Mumbray, 
and  other  ladies  present. — Woman,  it  was  true,  lived  an 
imperfect  life  if  she  did  not  become  Avife  and  mother; 
but  this  truism  had  been  insisted  on  to  the  exclusion  of 
another  verity  quite  as  important:  that  wifehood  and 
motherhood,  among  civilized  people,  implied  qualifica- 
tions beyond  the  physical.  The  ordinary  girl  was  sent 
forth  into  life  with  a  mind  scarcely  more  developed 
than  that  of  a  child.  Hence  those  monstrous  errors  she 
constantly  committed  when  called  upon  to  accept  a 
husband.  Not  one  marriage  in  fifty  thousand  was  an 
alliance  on  terms  fair  to  the  Avoman.  In  the  vast 
majority  of  cases,  she  wedded  a  sort  of  man  in  the 
moon.  Of  him  and  of  his  world  she  knew  nothing; 
whereas  the  bridegroom  had  almost  always  a  very 
sufficient  acquaintance  with  the  circumstances,  habits, 
antecedents,  characteristics,  of  the  girl  he  espoused. 
Her  parents,  her  guardians,  should  assure  themselves 
— pooh  !  even  if  these  people  Avere  conscientious 
and  capable,  the  task  was  in  most  cases  beyond  their 
power. 

"  I  have  no  scheme  for  rendering  marriages  univer- 
sally happy.  On  the  contrary,  I  believe  that  marriages 
in  general  will  always  serve  as  a  test  of  human 
patience."  (Outbreak  of  masculine  laughter.)  "But 
assuredly  it  is  possible,  by  judicious  training  of  young 
girls,  to  guard  them  against  some  of  the  worst  perils 
which  now  threaten  their  going  forth  into  the  world. 
It  is  possible  to  put  them  on  something  like  an  equality 
in  knowledge  of  life  with  the  young  men  of  correspond- 


78  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

ing  social  station."  ("  Oh,  shameful !  "  murmured  Mrs. 
Mumbray,  "Shocking!")  "They  must  be  treated, 
not  like  ornaments  under  glass-cases,  but  like  human 
beings  who,  physiologists  assure  us,  are  born  with 
mental  apparatus,  even  as  men  are.  I  repeat  that  I 
don't  want  to  see  them  trained  for  politics "  (many 
faces  turned  towards  the  middle  of  the  hall),  "  and  that 
I  lament  the  necessity  imposed  on  so  many  of  them  of 
struggling  with  men  in  the  labour-market.  What  I 
demand  is  an  education  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word, 
and  that  as  much  at  the  hands  of  their  mothers  as  of 
the  school-teacher.  When  that  custom  has  been  estab- 
lished, be  sure  that  it  will  affect  enormously  the  habits 
and  views  of  the  male  population.  The  mass  of  men  at 
present  regard  women  as  creatures  hoodwinked  for 
them  by  nature — or  at  all  events  by  society.  When 
they  can  no  longer  act  on  that  assumption,  interest  and, 
let  us  hope,  an  expanding  sense  of  honour  will  lead 
them  to  see  the  marriage  contract,  and  all  connected 
with  it,  in  altogether  a  different  light." 

He  drank  off  a  glass  of  water,  listening  the  while  to 
resonant  applause.  There  ^5?^  still  twenty  minutes, 
and  he  decided  to  use  the  time  in  offering  solace  to  the 
army  of  women  who,  by  force  of  mere  statistics,  are 
fated  to  the  frustration  of  their  raison  d'etre.  On  this 
subject  he  had  nothing  very  remarkable  to  say,  and, 
indeed,  the  maiden  ladies  who  heard  him  must  have 
felt  that  it  all  amounted  to  a  pitying  shrug  of  the 
shoulders.  But  he  could  not  speak  otherwise  than 
vigorously,  and  at  times  his  words  were  eloquent. 

"  We  know  not  how  things  may  improve  in  the  future  " 
(thus  he  perorated),  "  but  let  celibate  ladies  of  the  present 
bear  in  mind  that  the  chances  are  enormously  against 


DEXZIL   QUARRIER  79 

their  making  a  marriage  worthy  of  the  name."  ("  Oh ! " 
from  some  man  at  the  back.)  "  Let  them  remember,  too, 
if  they  are  disposed  to  altruism,  that  though  most  men 
manage  to  find  a  wife,  very  few  indeed,  as  things  are, 
do  not  ultimately  wish  that  they  had  remained  single." 
(A  roar  of  laughter,  and  many  protests.)  "  This  being 
so,  let  women  who  have  no  family  of  their  own  devote 
themselves,  whenever  possible,  to  the  generous  and 
high  task  of  training  the  new  female  generation,  so 
that  they  may  help  to  mitigate  one  of  the  greatest 
ills  of  civilized  existence,  and  j^re^jare  for  women  of 
the  future  the  possibility  of  a  life  truly  emanci- 
pated." 

Denzil  sat  down  with  a  glow  of  exulting  triumph. 
His  lecture  was  a  success,  not  a  doubt  of  it.  He  saw 
the  chairman  rise,  and  heard  slow,  languid  phrases 
which  contrasted  strangely  witli  his  own  fire  and  rush. 
A  vote  of  thanks  was  being  proposed.  When  silence 
came,  he  was  aware  of  some  fluster  in  the  body  of  the 
liiill ;  people  were  whispering,  tittering,  turning  round 
to  look.  Two  persons  had  stood  up  with  the  intention 
of  seconding  the  vote  of  gratitude ;  one  was  Mr.  Chown, 
the  other  that  lady  who  had  a  place  in  the  middle  of 
the  assemblage,  and  who  seemed  to  be  so  well  known. 
The  Radical  draper  did  not  immediately  give  way,  but 
his  neighbours  reminded  him  of  propriety.  Quarrier 
had  Just  scrutinized  the  person  of  the  lady  about  to 
speak,  when  her  voice  fell  upon  his  ears  with  a 
pleasant  distinctness. 

"  As  it  is  certainly  right,"  she  began,  "  that  a  woman 
should  be  one  of  those  who  return  thanks  to  our 
lecturer,  and  as  I  fear  that  no  other  woman  present  will 
be  inclined  to  undertake   this   duty,  I  will   make  no 


80  DENZIL   QUAREIER 

apology  for  trying  to  iierform  it.  And  that  in  very 
few  Avords.  Speaking  for  myself,  I  cannot  pretend  to 
agree  with  the  whole  of  Mr.  Quarrier's  address;  I  think 
his  views  were  frequently  timid"— laughter  and  hush- 
ing—"  frequently  timid,  and  occasionally  quite  too 
masculine.  I  heard  once  of  a  lady  who  proposed  to  give 
a  series  of  lectures  on  'Astronomy  from  a  Female  Point 
of  View ' "  (a  laugh  from  two  or  three  people  only), 
"and  I  should  prefer  to  entitle  Mr.  Quarrier's  lecture, 
'  Woman  from  a  Male  Point  of  View.'  However,  it 
was  certainly  well-meaning,  undoubtedly  eloquent,  and 
on  the  whole,  in  this  time  of  small  mercies,  some- 
thing for  whicli  a  member  of  the  struggling  sex  may 
reasonably  be  grateful.  I  wish,  therefore,  to  add 
my  voice  to  the  proposal  that  a  vote  of  thanks  be 
offered  to  our  lecturer,  with  all  sincerity  and  all 
heartiness." 

"A  devilish  good  little  speech  I"  Denzil  murmured 
to  himself,  as  the  applause  and  merriment  broke 
forth. 

The  show  of  hands  seemed  to  be  universal.  Denzil 
was  enjoying  an  enormous  happiness.  He  had  proved 
to  himself  that  he  could  speak,  and  henceforth  the 
platform  was  his  own.  Now  let  the  dissolution  of 
Parliament  come  with  all  convenient  speed;  he  longed 
to  begin  the  political  conflict. 

Committee-men  crowded  about  him,  offering  hands, 
and  brimming  with  facetious  eulogy. 

"  You  were  on  very  thin  ice  now  and  then,"  said  Mr. 
Liversedge.  "  You  made  me  shake  in  my  shoes.  But 
the  skating  was  admirable." 

"  I  never  knew  Mrs.  Wade  so  complimentary," 
remarked  old  Mr.  Toft.    "I  expected  half  an  hour's 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  81 

diatribe,  'the  rapt  oration  flowing  free/  as  Tennyson 
says.     You  have  taught  her  good  manners." 

Down  in  the  hall  was  proceeding  an  animated  con- 
versazione. In  one  group  stood  the  Mayor  and  his  wife, 
Miss  Mumbray,  and  Ivy  Glazzard.  Serena  was  turning 
aside  to  throw  a  shawl  over  her  shoulders,  when  Eustace 
Glazzard  stepped  up. 

"Pray  let  me  assist  you,  Miss  Mumbray."  He 
placed  the  wrap.     "  I  hope  you  have  been  amused  ?  " 

"I  have,  really,"  answered  the  girl,  with  a  glance 
towards  Ivy,  who  had  heard  her  uncle's  voice. 

"You,  Ivy,"  he  continued,  "are  rather  on  Mrs. 
Wade's  side,^I  think?" 

"  Oh,  uncle — how  can  you!  " 

Mr.  Mumbray  was  looking  on,  trying  to  determine 
who  the  gentleman  might  be.  Glazzard,  desirous  of 
presentation  to  the  Mayor,  gave  Ivy  a  glance,  and  she, 
with  much  nervousness,  uncertain  whether  she  might 
do  such  a  thing,  said  to  her  friend's  father : 
-  "  I  think,  Mr.  Mumbray,  you  don't  know  my  uncle, 
Mr.  Eustace  Glazzard  ?  " 

"  Ha  !  very  glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Glazzard.  My 
love,"  he  turned  to  the  Mayoress,  "  let  me  present  to 
you  Mr.  Eustace  Glazzard — Mr.  William's  brother." 

The  Mayoress  laid  her  fan  on  her  bosom,  and  in- 
clined graciously.  She  was  a  portly  and  high-coloured 
woman,  with  hanging  nether  lip.  Glazzard  conversed 
with  her  and  hor  husband  in  a  tone  of  amiable  liveli- 
ness, 

"Remarkable,"  he  said,  smiling  to  the  Mayoress, 
"how  patiently  women  in  general  support  this  ancient 
yoke  of  tyranny  !  " 

Mrs.  Mumbray  looked   at   him    with   condescending 


82  DENZIL  QUAREIER 

eyes,  in  doubt  as  to  his  real  meaning.  Her  husband, 
ponderously  literal,  answered  in  his  head-voice  : 

"  I  fail  to  recognize  the  grievance. — How  do  you  do, 
Mr.  Lovett  ? — I  am  conscious  of  no  tyranny." 

"  But  that  is  just  what  Mr.  Glazzard  meant,  papa," 
put  in  Serena,  with  scarcely  disguised  contempt. 

"Ha!  oh!  To  be  sure — to  be  sure!  Quite  so,  Mr. 
Glazzard. — A  very  amoosing  lecture,  all  the  same.  Not 
of  course  to  be  taken  seriously. — Good  evening,  Mr. 
Glazzard — good  evening!" 

The  Mayoress  again  inclined.  Serena  gave  her 
acquaintance  an  enigmatic  look,  murmured  a  leave- 
taking,  and,  with  an  affectionate  nod  to  Ivy,  passed  on. 
Glazzard  drew  near  to  his  niece. 

"  Your  friend  is  not  a  disciple  of  Mrs.  Wade  ?  " 

"  Oh  dear  no,  uncle !  " 

"  Not  just  a  little  bit  ?  "  he  smiled,  encouragingly. 

"  Perhaps  she  would  agree  with  what  Mr,  Quarrier 
said  about  girls  having  a  right  to  better  instruction." 

"  I  see.  Don't  wait  Avith  me  if  there's  any  one  you 
would  like  to  speak  to." 

Ivy  shook  her  head.  She  had  a  troubled  expression, 
as  if  the  exi^erieuce  of  the  evening  had  agitated  her. 

Close  at  hand,  a  circle  of  men  had  formed  about  Mr. 
Chown,  who  was  haranguing  on  the  Woman  question. 
What  he  wanted  was  to  emancipate  the  female  mind 
from  the  yoke  of  superstition  and  of  priestcraft.  Time 
enough  to  talk  about  giving  women  votes  when  they 
were  no  longer  the  slaves  of  an  obstructive  religion. 
There  were  good  things  in  the  lecture,  but,  on  the  whole, 
it  was  flabby — flabby.  A  man  who  would  discourse  on 
this  topic  must  be  courageous;  he  must  dare  to  shock 
and  give  offence.     Now,  if  he  had  been  lecturing 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  83 

Glazzard  beckoned  to  liis  niece,  and  led  her  out  of 
ear-shot  of  these  utterances.  In  a  minute  or  two  they 
were  joined  by  the  chairman,  who  had  already  equipped 
himself  for  departure. 

"Bah!  I  have  a  splitting  headache,"  said  William, 
"Let  us  get  home." 

Quarrier  was  still  on  the  platform,  but  at  this 
moment  he  caught  Glazzard's  eye,  and  came  hastening 
down.     His  friend  stepped  forward  to  meet  him. 

"  Well,  how  did  it  go  ?  "  Denzil  asked,  gaily. 

"  You  have  great  aptitude  for  that  kind  of  thing." 

"  So  it  strikes  me. — Will  you  engage  yourself  to  dine 
with  me  the  day  after  to-morrow  ?  " 

"Willingly." 

"I  have  an  idea.  You  remember  the  Coach  and 
Horses— over  at  Rickstead  ?  " 

It  was  a  fine  old  country  inn,  associated  in  their 
memories  of  boyhood  with  hare-and-hounds  and  other 
sportive  excursions.     Glazzard  nodded. 

"Let  us  have  a  quiet  dinner  there;  six-thirty.  They 
can  drive  us  back." 

Glazzard  rejoined  his  relatives.  Denzil,  turning 
away,  came  face  to  face  with  Mr.  Samuel  Quarrier. 

"  So  you  took  the  trouble  to  come  and  hear  me  ?  " 

"To  be  sure,"  replied  the  old  man,  in  a  gruff  but 
good-natured  voice.  "  Is  it  true  what  they  are  saying  ? 
Is  it  to  be  you  instead  of  Toby  ?  " 

"  I  believe  so." 

"  I  shall  do  my  best  to  get  you  a  licking.  All  in  good 
part,  you  know." 

"  Perfectly  natural.     But  I  shall  win ! " 


VIII 

''Do  you  know  of  any  good  house  to  let  in  or  near  the 
town  ?  "  inquired  Denzil  of  his  sister  the  next  morning, 
as  they  chatted  after  Toby's  departure  to  business. 

"  A  house  !     What  do  you  want  with  one  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  must  have  a  local  habitation — the  more  solid 
the  better." 

Mrs.  Liversedge  examined  him. 

"What  is  going  on,  Denzil  ?" 

"  My  candidature — that's  all.  Any  houses  advertised 
in  this  rag  ?  "  He  took  up  yesterday's  Examiner,  and 
began  to  search  the  pages. 

"  You  can  live  very  well  with  us." 

Denzil  did  not  reply,  and  his  sister,  summoned  by  a 
servant,  left  him.  There  was  indeed  an  advertisement 
such  as  he  sought.  An  old  and  pleasant  family  resi- 
dence, situated  on  the  outskirts  of  Polterham  (he 
remembered  it  very  well),  would  be  vacant  at  Christmas. 
Application  could  be  made  on  the  premises.  Still 
in  a  state  of  very  high  pressure,  unable  to  keep  still 
or  engage  in  any  quiet  pursuit,  he  set  oil  on  the 
instant  to  view  this  house.  It  stood  in  a  high-walled 
garden,  which  was  entered  through  heavy  iron-barred 
gates,  one  of  them  now  oi)en.  The  place  had  rather 
a  forlorn  look,  due  in  part  to  the  decay  of  the  foliage 
which  in  summer  shaded  the  lawii ;  blinds  were  drawn 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  85 

on  all  the  front  windows;  the  porch  needed  repair. 
He  rang  at  the  door,  and  was  quickly  answered  by  a 
dame  of  the  housekeeper  species.  On  learning  his 
business,  she  began  to  conduct  him  through  the  rooms, 
which  were  in  habitable  state,  though  with  furniture 
muffled. 

"  The  next  room,  sir,  is  the  library,  A  lady  is  there 
at  present.     Perhaps  you  know  her  ? — Mrs.  \Yade." 

"  Mrs.  Wade  !     Yes,  I  know  her  slightly." 

The  coincidence  amused  him. 

"  She  comes  here  to  study,  sir — being  a  friend  of  the 
family.     Will  you  go  in  ?  " 

Foreseeing  a  lively  dialogue,  he  released  his  atten- 
dant till  slie  should  hear  his  voice  again,  and,  with 
preface  of  a  discreet  knock,  entered  the  room.  An 
agreeable  warmth  met  him,  and  the  aspect  of  the 
interior  contrasted  cheerfully  with  that  of  the  chambers 
into  which  he  had  looked.  There  was  no  great  collec- 
tion of  books,  but  some  fine  engravings  filled  the 
vacancies  around.  At  the  smaller  of  two  writing-tables 
sat  the  person  he  was  prepared  to  discover;  she  had 
several  volumes  open  before  her,  and  appeared  to 
be  making  notes.  At  his  entrance  she  turned  and 
gazed  at  him  fixedly. 

"Forgive  my  intrusion,  Mrs.  Wade,"  Denzil  began, 
in  a  genial  voice.  "  I  have  come  to  look  over  the  house, 
and  was  just  told  tliat  you  were  here.  As  we  are  not 
absolute  strangers  " 

He  had  never  met  her  in  the  social  way,  thougli  she 
had  been  a  resident  at  Polterham  for  some  six  years. 
Through  Mrs.  Liversedge,  her  repute  had  long  ago 
reached  him  ;  she  was  universally  considered  eccentric, 
and,  by  many  people,  bardly  projoer  for  an  acquaint- 


86  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

ance.  On  her  first  arrival  in  the  town  she  wore  the 
garb  of  recent  widowhood  ;  relatives  here  she  had 
none,  but  an  old  friendship  existed  between  her  and 
the  occupants  of  this  house,  a  childless  couple  named 
Hornibrook,     Her  age  was  now  about  thirty. 

Quarrier  was  far  from  regarding  her  as  an  attractive 
woman.  He  thought  better  of  her  intelligence  than 
before  hearing  her  speak,  and  it  was  not  difficult  for 
him  to  imagine  that  the  rumour  of  Polterham  went 
much  astray  when  it  concerned  itself  with  her  charac- 
teristics ;  but  the  face  now  directed  to  him  had  no 
power  whatever  over  his  sensibilities.  It  might  be  that 
of  a  high-spirited  and  large-brained  woman  ;  beautiful 
it  could  not  be  called.  There  was  something  amiss 
with  the  eyes.  All  the  other  features  might  pass  ; 
they  were  neither  plain  nor  comely :  a  forehead  of  good 
type,  a  very  ordinary  nose,  largish  lips,  chin  suggesting 
the  masculine  ;  but  the  eyes,  to  begin  with,  were 
prominent,  and  they  glistened  in  a  way  which  made  it 
very  difficult  to  determine  their  colour.  They 
impressed  Denzil  as  of  a  steely-grey,  and  seemed  hard 
as  the  metal  itself.  His  preference  was  distinctly  for 
soft  feminine  eyes — such  as  Lilian  gazed  with. 

Her  figure  was  slight,  but  seemed  strong  and  active. 
He  had  noticed  the  evening  before  that,  in  standing  to 
address  an  audience,  she  looked  anything  but  ridiculous 
— spite  of  bonnet.  Here  too,  though  allowing  her 
surprise  to  be  seen,  she  had  the  bearing  of  perfect 
self-possession,  and  perhaps  of  conscious  superiority. 
Fawn-coloured  hair,  less  than  luxuriant,  lay  in  soft 
folds  and  plaits  on  the  top  of  her  head  ;  possibly  (the 
thought  was  not  incongruous)  she  hoped  to  gain  half  an 
inch  of  seeming  stature. 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  87 

They  shook  hands,  and  Denzil  exi^hiined  his  object  iu 
calling. 

"  Then  you  are  going  to  settle  at  Polterham  ?  " 

"  Probably — that  is,  to  keep  an  abode  here." 

"  You  are  not  married,  I  think,  Mr.  Quarrier  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  There  was  a  report  at  the  Institute  last  night — may 
I  speak  of  it  ?  " 

"  Political  ?  I  don't  think  it  need  be  kept  a  secret. 
My  brother-in-law  wishes  me  to  make  friends  with  the 
Liberals,  in  his  place." 

"  I  dare  say  you  will  find  them  very  willing  to  meet 
your  advances.  On  one  question  you  have  taken  a  pretty 
safe  line." 

"  Much  to  your  disgust,"  said  Denzil,  who  found 
himself  speaking  very  freely  and  inclined  to  face  debat- 
able points. 

"  Disgust  is  hardly  the  word.  Will  you  sit  down  ? 
In  Mrs,  Hornibrook's  absence,  I  must  reiDresent  her. 
They  are  good  enough  to  let  me  use  the  library;  my 
own  is  poorly  supjjlied." 

Denzil  took  a  chair. 

"Are  you  busy  with  any  particular  subject?"  he 
asked. 

"  The  history  of  woman  in  Greece." 

"Profound  !  I  have  as  good  as  forgotten  my 
classics.     You  read  the  originals  ?  " 

"After  a  fashion.  I  don't  know  much  about  the 
enclitic  de,  and  I  couldn't  pass  an  exam,  in  the  hypo- 
thetical sentences;  but  I  pick  up  the  sense  as  I  read 
on." 

Her  tone  seemed  to  imply  that,  after  all,  she  was  not 
ill-versed  in  grammatical  niceties.     She  curtailed  the 


88  DENZIL  QUAREIER 

word  "  examination "  in  an  off-hand  way  which 
smacked  of  an  undergraduate,  and  her  attitude  on  the 
chair  suggested  that  she  had  half  a  mind  to  cross  her 
legs  and  throw  her  hands  behind  her  head. 

"  Then,"  said  Quarrier,  "  you  have  a  good  deal  more 
right  to  speak  of  woman's  claims  to  independence  than 
most  female  orators." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  good-humoured  curl  of  the 

lip. 

"  Excuse  me  if  I  mention  it — your  tone  reminds  me 
of  that  with  which  you  began  last  evening.  It  was 
rather  patronizing." 

"Heaven  forbid  !  I  am  very  sorry  to  have  been 
guilty  of  such  ill-manners." 

"  In  a  measure  you  atoned  for  it  afterwards.  When 
I  got  up  to  offer  you  my  thanks,  I  was  thinking  of  the 
best  part  of  your  lecture— that  where  you  spoke  of  girls 
being  entrapped  into  monstrous  marriages.  That  was 
generous,  and  splendidly  put.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
you  must  have  had  cases  in  mind." 

For  the  second  time  Denzil  was  unable  to  meet  the 
steely  gaze.     He  looked  away  and  laughed. 

"Oh,  of  course  I  had;  who  hasn't — that  knows  any- 
thing of  the  world  ?  But,"  he  changed  the  subject, 
"  don't  you  find  it  rather  dull,  living  in  a  place  like 
Polterham  ?  " 

"  I  have  my  work  here." 

"  Work  ? — the  work  of  propagandism  ?  " 

"  Precisely.  It  would  be  pleasant  enough  to  live  in 
London,  and  associate  with  people  of  my  own  way  of 
thinking;  but  what's  the  good? — there's  too  much  of 
that  centralization.  The  obscurantists  take  very  good 
care  to  spread  themselves.     Why  shouldn't  those  who 


DENZIL   QLTARRIER  89 

love  the  light  try  to  kee-p  little  beacons  going  in  out-of- 
the-way  places  ?  " 

"  "Well,  do  you  make  any  jDrogress  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  think  so.  The  mere  fact  of  my  existence 
here  ensures  tliat.  I  dare  say  you  have  heard  tell  of 
me,  as  the  countryfolk  say  ?  " 

The  question  helped  Denzil  to  understand  why  Mrs. 
Wade  was  content  with  Polterham.     He  smiled. 

"Your  influence  won't  be  exerted  against  me,  I 
hope,  when  the  time  comes  ?  " 

"  By  no  means.  Don't  you  see  that  I  have  already 
begun  to  help  you  ?  " 

"  By  making  it  clear  that  my  Radicalism  is  not  of 
the  most  dangerous  type  ?  " 

They  laughed  together,  and  Quarrier,  though  the 
dialogue  entertained  him,  rose  as  if  to  depart. 

"I  will  leave  you  with  your  Greeks,  Mrs.  Wade; 
though  I  fear  you  haven't  mucli  pleasure  in  them  from 
that  special  point  of  view." 

"  I  don't  know ;  they  have  given  us  important  types 
of  womanhood.  The  astonishing  thing  is  that  we  have 
got  so  little  ahead  of  them  in  the  facts  of  female  life. 
Woman  is  still  enslaved,  though  men  nowadays  think 
it  necessary  to  disguise  it." 

"  Do  you  really  attach  much  importance  to  the  right 
of  voting,  and  so  on  ?  " 

"'And  so  on?'  That  covers  a  great  deal,  Mr. 
Quarrier.  I  attach  all  importance  to  a  state  of  things 
which  takes  for  granted  that  women  stand  on  a  level 
with  children." 

"  So  they  do — with  an  inappreciable  number  of 
exceptions.  You  must  be  perfectly  well  aware  of 
that," 


90  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

"  And  so  you  expect  me  to  be  satisfied  with  it  ? — I 
insist  on  the  franchise,  because  it  symbolizes  full 
citizenship.  I  won't  aim  at  anything  less  than  that. 
Women  must  be  taught  to  keep  their  eyes  on  that,  as 
the  irreducible  minimum  of  their  demands." 

"We  mustn't  argue.  You  know  that  I  think  they 
must  be  taught  to  look  at  quite  different  things," 

"Yes;  but  Avhat  those  things  are  you  have  left  me 
in  doubt.  We  will  talk  it  over  when  you  have  more 
time  to  spare.  Do  you  know  my  address  ?  Pear-tree 
Cottage,  Eickstead  Eoad.  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see 
you  if  ever  you  care  to  call." 

Denzil  made  his  acknowledgments,  shook  hands,  and 
left  the  room. 

When  his  step  sounded  in  the  hall,  the  housekeeper 
appeared  and  conducted  him  to  the  upper  stories.  He 
examined  everything  attentively,  but  in  silence;  his 
features  expressed  grave  thought.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hornibrook,  he  was  told,  were  living  in  Guernsey, 
and  had  resolved  to  make  that  island  their  permanent 
abode.  A  Polterham  solicitor  was  their  agent  for  the 
property. 

Denzil  was  given  to  acting  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment.  There  might  be  dwellings  obtainable  that 
would  suit  him  better  than  this,  but  he  did  not  care  to 
linger  in  the  business.  As  he  passed  out  of  the  iron 
gates  he  made  up  his  mind  that  the  house,  with 
necessary  repairs,  would  do  very  well;  and  straight- 
way he  turned  his  steps  to  the  office  of  the  agent. 


IX 

The  village  of  Rickstead  lay  at  some  five  miles' 
distance  from  that  suburb  of  Polterham  where  dwelt 
Mr.  Toby  Liversedge,  Mr.  Mumbray  (the  Mayor), 
Mr.  Samuel  Quarrier,  and  sundry  other  distinguished 
townsfolk.  A  walk  along  the  Eickstead  Eoad  was  a 
familiar  form  of  exercise  with  the  less-favoured  jDeople 
who  had  their  homes  in  narrow  streets;  for  on  either 
side  of  the  highway  lay  an  expanse  of  meadows, 
crossed  here  and  there  by  pleasant  paths  which  led  to 
the  surrounding  hamlets.  In  this  direction  no  factories 
had  as  yet  risen  to  deform  the  scene. 

Darkness  was  falling  when  Quarrier  set  forth  to  keep 
his  appointment  with  Eustace  Glazzard  at  the  Coach  and 
Horses  Inn.  The  road-lamps  already  glimmered ;  there 
would  be  no  moon,  but  a  soft  dusky  glow  lingered  over 
half  the  sky,  and  gave  promise  of  a  fair  night.  Denzil 
felt  his  boyhood  revive  as  he  got  clear  of  the  new 
houses,  and  began  to  recognize  gates,  trees,  banks,  and 
stiles;  he  could  not  say  whether  he  enjoyed  the 
sensation,  but  it  served  to  combat  certain  troublesome 
thoughts  which  had  l)eset  him  since  the  morning.  He 
was  experiencing  reaction  after  the  excitement  of  the  last 
two  days.  A  change  from  the  orderly  domesticities  of  his 
sister's  house  had  become  necessary  to  him,  and  he  looked 
forward  with  satisfaction  to  the  evening  heluid  planned. 

At  a  turn  of  the  road,  which,  as  he  well  remembered. 


93  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

had  been  a  frequent  limit  of  his  nurse-guarded  walk 
five-and-twenty  years  ago,  his  eye  fell  u^jon  a  garden 
gate  marked  with  the  white  inscription,  "Pear-tree 
Cottage."  It  brought  him  to  a  pause.  This  must  be 
Mrs.  Wade's  dwelling;  the  intellectual  lady  had  quite 
slipped  out  of  his  thoughts,  and  with  amusement  he 
stopped  to  examine  the  cottage  as  well  as  dusk  per- 
mitted. The  front  was  overgrown  with  some  creeper; 
tlie  low  roof  made  an  irregular  line  against  the  sky;  one 
window  on  the  ground-floor  showed  light  through  a  red 
blind.  Mrs.  Wade,  he  had  learnt,  enjoyed  but  a  small 
income;  the  interior  was  probably  very  modest.  There 
she  sat  behind  the  red  blind  and  meditated  on  the  servi- 
tude of  her  sex.  Eepressing  an  inclination  to  laugh 
aloud,  he  stepped  briskly  forward. 

Eickstead  consisted  of  twenty  or  thirty  scattered 
houses  ;  an  ancient,  slumberous  place,  remarkable 
chiefly  for  its  time-honoured  inn,  which  stood  at  the 
crossing  of  two  high  roads.  The  landlord  had  received 
notice  that  two  gentlemen  would  dine  under  his  roof, 
and  the  unwonted  event  was  making  quite  a  stir  in  the 
hostelry.  Quarrier  walked  in  at  about  a  quarter-past 
six;  savoury  odours  saluted  him  from  the  threshold. 
Glazzard  had  not  yet  arrived,  but  in  less  than  five  min- 
utes a  private  carriage  drew  up  to  the  door,  and  the 
friends  hailed  each  other. 

The  room  prepared  for  them  lay  well  apart  from  the 
bar,  with  its  small  traffic.  A  great  fire  had  been  blaz- 
ing for  an  hour  or  two;  and  the  table,  not  too  large, 
was  laid  with  the  best  service  the  house  could  afford — 
nothing  very  grand,  to  be  sure,  in  these  days  of  its  de- 
cline, but  the  general  effect  was  inviting  to  men  with  a 
good  appetite  and  some  historical  imagination. 


DEXZIL   QUARRIER  93 

"  A  happy  idea  of  yours  I "  said  Glazzard,  as  he  rubbed 
his  hands  before  the  great  hearth.  "  x\re  we  to  begin 
with  a  cup  of  sack  ?  " 

Punctually  the  meal  was  served;  the  liquor  provided 
therewith,  though  of  small  dignity,  did  no  discredit  to 
the  host.  They  talked  and  laughed  over  old  Grammar 
School  days,  old  acquaintances  long  since  dead  or  lost  to 
sight,  boyish  ambitions  and  achievements.  Dinner  dis- 
missed, a  bottle  of  whisky  on  the  table,  a  kettle  steaming 
by  the  fire,  Denzil's  pipe  and  Glazzard's  cigar  comfort- 
ably glowing,  there  came  a  long  pause. 

'•  "Well,  I  have  a  story  to  tell  you,"  said  Quarrier,  at 
length. 

"So  I  supposed,"  murmured  the  other,  without 
eagerness. 

"I  don't  know  that  I  should  have  told  it  but  for  that 
chance  encounter  at  Kew.  But  I'm  not  sorry.  I  think, 
Glazzard,  you  are  the  one  man  in  the  world  in  whom  I 
have  perfect  confidence." 

The  listener  just  bent  his  head.  His  features  were 
impassive. 

"It  concerns  Lilian,  of  course,"  Quarrier  pursued, 
when  he  had  taken  a  few  puffs  less  composedly  than 
hitherto.  "  I  am  telling  the  story  without  her  leave, 
but — well,  in  a  way,  as  I  said,  the  necessity  is  forced 
upon  me.  I  can't  help  doing  many  things  Just  now 
that  I  should  avoid  if  I  had  my  choice.  I  have  under- 
taken to  fight  society  by  stratagem.  For  my  own  part, 
I  would  rather  deal  it  a  plain  blow  in  the  face,  and  bid 
it  do  its  worst;  but" He  waved  his  hand. 

Glazzard  murmured  and  nodded  comprehension. 

"I'll  go  back  to  the  beginning.  That  was  about 
three  years  ago.     I  was  crossing  the  North  Sea  (you 


94  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

remember  the  time;  I  said  good-bye  to  you  in  the 
Academy,  where  your  bust  was),  and  on  the  boat  I  got 
into  conversation  with  a  decent  kind  of  man  who  had 
his  wife  and  family  with  him,  going  to  settle  for  a  time 
at  Stockholm;  a  merchant  of  some  sort.  There  were 
three  children,  and  they  had  a  governess — Lilian,  in 
fact,  who  was  then  not  much  more  than  eighteen.  I 
liked  the  look  of  her  from  the  first.  She  was  very  still 
and  grave, — the  kind  of  thing  that  takes  me  in  a 
woman,  provided  she  has  good  features.  I  managed  to 
get  a  word  or  two  with  her,  and  I  liked  her  way  of 
speaking.  Well,  I  was  sufficiently  interested  to  say  to 
myself  that  I  might  as  well  spend  a  week  or  two  at 
Stockholm  and  keep  up  the  acquaintance  of  these 
people;  Becket,  their  name  was.  I'm  not  exactly  the 
kind  of  fellow  who  goes  about  falling  in  love  with 
nursery  governesses,  and  at  that  time  (perhaps  you 
recollect  ?)  I  had  somebody  else  in  mind.  I  dare  say  it 
was  partly  the  contrast  between  that  shark  of  a  woman 
and  this  modest  girl;  at  all  events,  I  wanted  to  see  more 
of  Lilian,  and  I  did.  I  was  in  Stockholm,  off  and  on, 
for  a  couple  of  months.  I  became  good  friends  with 
the  Beckets,  and  before  coming  back  to  England  I  made 
an  offer  to  Miss  Allen — that  was  the  governess's  name. 
She  refused  me,  and  I  was  conceited  enough  to  wonder 
what  the  deuce  she  meant." 

Glazzard  laughed.  He  was  listening  with  more  show 
of  interest. 

"Well,"  pursued  Quarrier,  after  puffing  vainly  at 
his  extinguished  pipe,  "there  was  reason  for  wonder- 
ing. Before  I  took  the  plunge,  I  had  a  confidential  talk 
with  Mrs.  Becket,  who  as  good  as  assured  that  I  had 
only  to  speak;  in  fact,  she  was  rather  angry  with  me 


DEXZIL   QUARRIER  95 

for  disturbing  her  family  arrangements.  Miss  Allen,  I 
learnt  from  her,  was  an  uncommonly  good  girl — every- 
thing I  imagined  her.  Mrs.  Becket  didn't  know  her 
family,  but  she  had  engaged  her  on  the  strength  of  ex- 
cellent testimonials,  Avhich  didn't  seem  exaggerated. 
Yet  after  that  I  was  floored — told  that  the  thing 
couldn't  be.  Xo  weeping  and  wailing;  but  a  face  and  a 
voice  that  puzzled  me.  The  girl  liked  me  well  enough; 
I  felt  sure  of  it.  All  the  same  I  had  to  come  back  to 
England  alone,  and  in  a  devilish  bad  temper.  You  re- 
member that  I  half  quarrelled  with  you  about  something 
at  our  first  meeting." 

"You  were  rather  bearish,"  remarked  Glazzard, 
knocking  the  ash  off  his  cigar. 

"  As  I  often  am.     Forgive  me,  old  fellow ! " 

Denzil  relit  his  pipe. 

"The  next  summer  I  went  over  to  Sweden  again. 
Miss  Allen  was  still  with  the  Beckets,  as  I  knew;  but 
she  was  only  going  to  stay  a  few  months  more.  One  of 
the  children  had  died,  and  the  other  two  were  to  be  sent 
to  a  boarding-school  in  England.  Again  I  went 
through  the  proposing  ordeal,  and  again  it  was  useless. 
'Confound  it  ! '  I  shouted,  '^do  deal  honestly  with 
me  !  What's  the  matter  ?  Are  you  engaged  already  ? ' 
She  kept   silent   for   a  long   time,   then   said   *Yes  !' 

*  Then  why  in  the  name  of  the  Jotuns  didn't  you  tell 
me  so  before  ? '  I  was  brutal  (as  I  often  am),  and  the 
poor  girl  began  to  cry.  Then  there  was  a  scene — 
positive  stage  business.     I  wouldn't  take  her  refusal. 

*  This  other  man,  you  don't  really  care  for  him — you 
are  going  to  sacrifice  yourself  !  I  won't  have  it  ! ' 
She  wept  and  moaned,  and  threatened  hysterics;  and 
at  last,  when   I   was  losing  patience   (I  can't  stand 


06  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

women's  idiotic  way  of  flinging  themselves  about  and 
making  a  disturbance,  instead  of  discussing  difficulties 
calmly),  she  said  at  last  that,  if  ever  we  met  in 
England,  she  would  explain  her  position.  'Why  not 
now  ?  ' — no,  not  in  the  Beckets'  house.  Very  well  then, 
at  least  she  might  make  it  certain  that  I  should  see  her 
in  England.  After  trouble  enough,  she  at  last  con- 
sented to  this.  She  was  to  come  back  with  Mr. 
Becket  and  the  boys,  and  then  go  to  her  peoi^le.  I  got 
her  promise  that  she  would  write  to  me  and  make  an 
appointment  somewhere  or  other. — More  whisky  ?  " 

Glazzard  declined;  so  Denzil  replenished  his  own 
glass,  and  went  on.  He  was  now  tremulous  with  the 
excitement  of  his  reminiscences;  he  fidgeted  on  the 
chair,  and  his  narrative  became  more  jerky  than  ever. 

"Her  letter  came,  posted  in  London.  She  had 
taken  leave  of  the  Becket  party,  and  was  supposed  to 
be  travelling  homewards;  but  she  would  keep  her  word 
with  me.  I  was  to  go  and  see  her  at  an  hotel  in  the 
West  End.  Go,  I  did,  punctually  enough;  I  believe 
I  would  have  gone  to  Yokohama  for  half  an  hour  of 
her  society.  I  found  her  in  a  private  sitting-room, 
looking  wretched  enough,  confoundedly  ill.  And  then 
and  there  she  told  me  her  story.  It  was  a  queer  one; 
no  one  could  have  guessed  it." 

He  seized  the  poker  and  stirred  the  fire  savagely. 

"I  shall  Just  give  you  the  plain  facts.  Her  father 
was  a  builder  in  a  small  way,  living  at  Bristol.  He 
had  made  a  little  money,  and  was  able  to  give  his 
children  a  decent  education.  There  was  a  son,  who 
died  young,  and  then  two  girls,  Lilian  the  elder  of 
them.  The  old  man  must  have  been  rather  eccentric; 
he  brought   up  the  girls  very  strictly  (their  mother 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  97 

died  when  they  were  children) — would  scarcely  let 
them  go  out  of  his  sight,  preached  to  them  a  sort  of 
mixture  ©f  Christianity  and  Pantheism,  forbade  all 
pleasures  except  those  of  home,  didn't  like  them  to 
make  acquaintances.  Their  mother's  sister  kept  the 
house;  a  feeble,  very  pious  creature,  probably  know- 
ing as  much  about  life  as  the  cat  or  the  canary — so  Lilian 
describes  her.  The  man  came  to  a  sudden  end ;  a  brick 
fell  on  his  head  whilst  he  was  going  over  a  new  building. 
Lilian  was  then  about  fifteen.  She  had  passed  the 
Oxford  Local,  and  was  preparing  herself  to  teach — or 
rather,  being  prepared  at  a  good  school. 

"  Allen  left  enough  money  to  jarovide  his  daughters 
with  about  a  hundred  a  year  each  ;  this  was  to  be  theirs 
absolutely  when  they  came  of  age,  or  when  they  married. 
The  will  had  been  carefully  drawn  up,  and  provided 
against  all  sorts  of  real  and  imaginary  dangers.  The 
one  thing  it  couldn't  provide  against  was  the  imbecility 
of  the  old  aunt,  who  still  had  the  girls  in  her  care. 

"A  couple  of  years  went  by,  and  Lilian  became  a 
teacher  in  the  school  she  had  attended.  Do  you  know 
anything  about  Bristol  and  the  neighbourhood  ?  It 
seems  that  the  people  there  are  in  the  habit  of  going  to 
a  place  called  Weston-super-Mare — excursion  steamers, 
and  so  on.  Well,  the  girls  and  their  aunt  went  to 
spend  a  day  at  Weston,  and  on  the  boat  they  somehow 
made  acquaintance  with  a  young  man  named  Northway. 
That  means,  of  course,  he  made  up  to  them,  and  the 
aunt  was  idiot  enough  to  let  him  keep  talking.  He 
stuck  by  them  all  day,  and  accompanied  them  back  to 
Bristol. — Pah  I  it  sickens  me  to  tell  the  story!  " 

He  took  the  glass  to  drink,  but  it  slipped  from  his 
nervous  fingers  and  crashed  on  the  ground. 


98  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"Never  mind;  let  it  be  there.  I  have  had  whisky 
enough.  This  damned  fellow  Northway  soon  called 
upon  them,  and  was  allowed  to  come  as  often  as  he  liked. 
He  was  a  clerk  in  a  commercial  house — gave  references 
which  were  found  to  be  satisfactory  enough,  a  great 
talker,  and  of  course  a  consummate  liar.  His  special 
interest  was  the  condition  of  the  lower  classes;  he 
made  speeches  here  and  there,  went  slumming,  called 
himself  a  Christian  Socialist.  This  kind  of  thing  was 
no  doubt  attractive  to  Lilian — you  know  enough  of  her 
to  understand  that.  She  was  a  girl  of  seventeen, 
remember.  In  the  end,  Northway  asked  her  to  marry 
him,  and  she  consented." 

"  Did  he  know  of  the  money  ?  "  inquired  Glazzard. 

"Undoubtedly.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  the  block- 
head aunt  told.  Well,  the  wedding-day  came;  they 
were  married;  and — just  as  they  came  out  of  the 
church,  up  walks  a  detective,  claps  his  hand  on 
Northway's  shoulder,  and  arrests  him  for  forgery." 

"H'm!  I  see." 

"The  fellow  was  tried.  Lilian  wouldn't  tell  me 
the  details;  she  gave  me  an  old  newspaper  with 
full  report.  Northway  had  already,  some  years 
before,  been  in  the  hands  of  the  police  in  London. 
It  came  out  now  that  he  was  keeping  a  mistress;  on 
the  eve  of  marriage  he  had  dispensed  with  her  services, 
and  the  woman,  in  revenge,  went  to  his  employers  to  let 
them  know  certain  suspicious  facts.  He  was  sent  to 
penal  servitude  for  three  years." 

"  Three  years  !"  murmured  Glazzard.  "  About  so 
long  ago,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Yes;  perhaps  he  is  already  restored  to  society. 
Pleasant  reflection ! " 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  99 

"Moral  and  discreet  law,"  remarked  the  other, 
"  which  maintains  the  validity  of  such  a  marriage !  " 

Denzil  uttered  a  few  violent  oaths,  reminiscences  of 
the  Navy, 

"  And  she  went  at  once  to  Sweden  ? "  Glazzard 
inquired. 

"  In  a  month  or  two  the  head-mistress  of  her 
school,  a  sensible  woman,  helped  her  to  get  an  engage- 
ment— with  not  a  word  said  of  the  catastrophe.  She 
went  as  Miss  Allen.  It  was  her  firm  resolve  never 
again  to  see  Northway.  She  Avould  not  acknowledge 
that  that  ceremony  in  the  church  made  her  a  wife.  Of 
course,  you  understand  that  it  wasn't  only  the  forgery 
that  revolted  her;  that,  I  suppose,  could  have  been 
pardoned.  In  a  few  days  she  had  learnt  more  of  herself 
and  of  the  world  than  in  all  the  previous  years.  She 
understood  that  Northway  was  really  nothing  to  her. 
She  accepted  him  because  he  was  the  first  man  who 
interested  her  and  made  love  to  her — like  thousands  of 
girls.  Lilian  is  rather  weak,  unfortunately.  She  can't 
stand  by  herself.  But  for  me,  I  am  convinced  she 
would  now  be  at  the  mercy  of  that  blackguard,  when 
he  comes  out.  Horror  and  despair  enabled  her  to  act 
firmly  three  years  ago  ;  but  if  she  had  no  one  to  sup- 
port her — well,  she  has !  " 

"  What  did  you  propose,"  asked  Glazzard,  "  when  you 
persuaded  her  to  live  with  you  ?  " 

Denzil  wrinkled  his  brow  and  looked  gloomily  at  the 
fire. 

"  We  agreed  to  live  a  life  of  our  own,  that  was  all. 
To  tell  you  the  truth,  Glazzard,  I  had  no  clear  plans. 
I  was  desperately  in  love,  and — well,  I  thought  of  emi- 
gration some  day.     You  know  me  too  well  to  doubt  my 


100  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

honesty.  Lilian  became  my  wife,  for  good  and  all — no 
doubt  about  that!  But  I  didn't  trouble  much  about 
the  future — it's  my  way." 

"  She  cut  herself  loose  from  the  Bristol  people  ?  " 
"No;  she  has  corresponded  with  them  at  long 
intervals.  They  think  she  is  teaching  in  London.  The 
tragedy  excuses  her  from  visiting  them.  Aunt  and 
sister  are  sworn  to  secrecy  concerning  her  whereabouts. 
A  good  thing  she  has  no  male  relatives  to  hunt  her  up." 
"  Does  she  draw  her  income  ? — I  beg  your  pardon, 
the  question  escaped  me.  Of  course  it's  no  business  of 
mine." 

"Never  mind.  Yes,  the  money  is  at  her  disposal; 
thanks  to  the  settlement  required  by  her  father's 
will.  I'm  afraid  she  gives  away  a  lot  of  it  in  indis- 
criminate charity.  I  needn't  say,"  he  added,  with  a 
characteristic  movement  of  the  head,  "that  /  have 
nothing  to  do  with  it." 
He  paused. 

"My  real  position  she  doesn't  understand.  I  have 
never  told  her  of  how  it  was  changed  at  my  father's 
death. — Poor  girl  !  About  that  time  she  was  dis- 
appointed of  a  child,  and  had  a  month  or  two  of  black 
misery.  I  kept  trying  to  make  up  my  mind  what 
course  would  be  the  wisest,  and  in  the  meanwhile  said 
nothing.  She  is  marvellously  patient.  In  fact,  what 
virtue  hasn't  she,  except  that  of  a  strong  will  ?  What- 
ever happens,  she  and  I  stand  together  ;  nothing  on 
earth  would  induce  me  to  part  from  her !  I  want  you 
to  understand  that.  In  what  I  am  now  going  to  do,  I 
am  led  solely  and  absolutely  by  desire  for  our  common 
good.  You  see,  Ave  are  face  to  face  with  the  world's 
immoral  morality.     To  brave  it  would  be  possible,  of 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  10] 

course;  but  then  we  must  either  go  to  a  foreign 
country  or  live  here  in  isolation.  I  don't  want  to  live 
permanently  abroad,  and  I  do  want  to  go  in  for  activity 
— political  by  preference.  I'he  result  is  we  must  set 
our  faces,  tell  lies,  and  hope  that  fortune  will  favour  us." 

There  was  a  strong  contrast  between  Quarrier's  glow- 
ing vehemence  and  the  show  of  calm  reflection  which 
the  other  maintained  as  he  listened.  Denzil's  face  was 
full  lighted  by  the  fire;  his  friend's  received  the 
shadow  of  an  old-fashioned  screen  which  Glazzard,  find- 
ing the  heat  oppressive,  had  pulled  forward  a  few 
minutes  ago.  The  frank,  fearless  gaze  with  which 
Denzil's  words  were  accompanied  met  no  response;  but 
to  this  habit  in  the  listener  he  was  accustomed. 

"  Yes,  we  must  tell  lies !  "  Quarrier  emphasized  the 
words  savagely.  "  Social  law  is  stupid  and  unjust, 
imposing  its  obligation  without  regard  to  person  or  cir- 
cumstance. It  presumes  that  no  one  can  be  trusted.  I 
decline  to  be  levelled  with  the  unthinking  multitude. 
You  and  I  can  be  a  law  to  ourselves.  What  I  shall  do 
is  this:  On  returning  to  town  next  week,  I  shall  take 
Lilian  over  to  Paris.  AVe  shall  live  there  for  several 
weeks,  and  about  the  end  of  the  time  I  shall  write  to  my 
people  here,  and  tell  them  that  I  have  just  been  married." 

He  i^aused.  Glazzard  made  no  motion,  and  uttered 
no  sound. 

"  I  have  already  dropped  a  mysterious  word  or  two 
to  my  sister,  which  she  will  be  able  to  interpret  after- 
wards. Happily,  I  am  thought  a  likely  fellow  to  do 
odd,  unconventional  things.  Again  and  again  Mary  has 
heard  me  rail  against  the  idiocies  of  ordinary  weddings; 
this  private  marriage  will  be  quite  in  character.  I 
shall   state   that  Lilian  has  hitherto  been  a  governess 


102  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

at  Stockholm — that  I  made  her  acquaintance  there — 
that  I  sent  for  her  to  meet  me  in  Paris.  '  Now,  tell  me, 
have  you  any  objection  to  offer  ?  " 

Glazzard  shifted  his  position,  coughed,  and  drew 
from  his  case  a  new  cigar,  which  he  scrutinized  closely 
from  tip  to  end — even  drawing  it  along  under  his  nose. 
Then  he  spoke  very  quietly. 

"  It's  feasible— but  dangerous." 

"  But  not  ve7'y  dangerous,  I  think  ?  " 

"  I  can't  say.  It  depends  greatly  on  your  wife's 
character." 

"  Thank  you  for  using  that  word,  old  fellow  ! "  burst 
from  Denzil.  "  She  is  my  wife,  in  every  sense  of  the  word 
that  merits  the  consideration  of  a  rational  creature  ! " 

"  I  admit  it ;  but  I  am  afraid  of  lies." 

"  I  am  not  only  afraid  of  them ;  I  hate  them  bitterly. 
I  can  say  with  a  clear  conscience  that  I  abhor  untruth- 
fulness. I  have  never  told  a  deliberate  lie  since  I  was 
old  enough  to  understand  the  obligation  of  truth! 
But  we  have  to  do  with  monstrous  social  tyrannies. 
Lilian  can  no  longer  live  in  hiding.  She  must  have  a 
full  and  enjoyable  life." 

"Yes.  But  is  it  possible  for  her,  under  these  con- 
ditions ?  " 

"  I  think  so.  I  have  still  to  speak  to  her,  but  I  know 
she  will  see  things  as  I  do." 

A  very  faint  smile  flitted  over  Glazzard's  lips. 

"  Good !  And  you  don't  fear  discovery  by — what's 
his  name — Northway  ?  " 

"  Not  if  Lilian  can  decide  to  break  entirely  with  her 
relatives — at  all  events  for  some  years.  She  must  cease 
to  draw  her  dividends,  of  course,  and  must  announce 
to  the  Bristol  people  that  she  has  determined  on  a  step 


DEXZIL   QUARRIER  103 

which  makes  it  impossible  for  her  to  communicate  with 
them  henceforth.  I  don't  think  this  will  be  a  great 
sacrifice;  her  aunt  and  her  sister  have  no  great  hold 
upon  her  affections. — You  must  remember  that  her 
whole  being  is  transformed  since  she  last  saw  them. 
She  thinks  differently  on  all  but  every  subject." 

"  You  are  assured  of  that  ?  "' 

"Absolutely  sure  !  I  have  educated  her.  I  have 
freed  her  from  superstitions  and  conventionalities.  To 
her,  as  to  me,  the  lies  we  shall  have  to  tell  will  be  burden- 
some in  the  extreme;  but  we  shall  both  forget  in  time." 

"  That  is  exactly  what  you  can  never  do !  "  said  Glaz- 
zard,  deliberately.  "You  enter  upon  a  lifetime  of 
dissimulation.  Ten,  twenty  years  hence  you  will  have 
to  act  as  careful  a  j^art  as  on  the  day  when  you  and  she 
first  jjresent  yourselves  in  Polterham." 

"  Oh,  in  a  sense !  "  cried  the  other,  impatiently. 

"A  very  grave  sense. — Quarrier,  why  have  you 
taken  up  this  political  idea  ?     What's  the  good  of  it  ?  " 

He  leaned  forward  and  spoke  with  a  low  earnest 
voice.     Denzil  could  not  instantly  reply. 

"Give  it  up!"  pursued  Glazzard.  "Take  Lilian 
abroad,  and  live  a  life  of  quiet  happiness.  Go  on  with 
your  literary  work  " 

"Nonsense!  I  can't  draw  back  now,  and  I  don't 
wish  to." 

"Would  you — if — if  I  were  willing  to  become  the 
Liberal  candidate  ?  " 

Denzil  stared  in  astonishment. 

"  You  ?     Liberal  candidate  ?  " 

"Yes,  I!" 

A  peal  of  laughter  rang  through  the  room.  Glaz- 
zard had  spoken  as  if  with  a   great  effort,  his  voice 


104 


DENZIL  QUARRIER 


indistinct,  his  eyes  furtive.  AVhen  the  burst  of  merri- 
ment made  answer  to  him,  he  fell  back  in  his  chair, 
crossed  his  legs,  and  set  his  features  in  a  hard  smile. 

"  You  are  Joking,  old  fellow !  "  said  Denzil. 

"  Yes,  if  you  like." 

Quarrier  wished  to  discuss  the  point,  but  the  other 
kept  an  obstinate  silence. 

"  I  understand,"  remarked  Denzil,  at  length.  "  You 
hit  upon  that  thought  out  of  kindness  to  me.  You 
don't  like  my  project,  and  you  wished  to  save  me  from 
its  dangers.  I  understand.  Hearty  thanks,  but  I  have 
made  up  my  mind.  I  won't  stunt  my  life  out  of  regard 
for  an  imbecile  superstition.  The  dangers  are  not 
great;  and  if  they  were,  I  should  prefer  to  risk  them. 
You  electioneering !     Ho,  ho !  " 

Glazzard's  lips  were  close  drawn,  his  eyes  veiled  by 
the  drooping  lids.  He  had  ceased  to  smoke,  and  when, 
a  few  minutes  later,  he  threw  away  his  cigar,  it  was  all 
but  squeezed  fiat  by  the  two  fingers  which  had  seemed 
to  hold  it  lightly. 

"It  is  settled!"  cried  Denzil,  Jumping  up,  with  a 
return  of  his  extravagant  spirits.  "You,  Glazzard, 
will  stand  by  and  watch — our  truest  friend.  You  on 
the  hustings!  Ha,  ha,  ha!  Come,  one  more  glass  of 
whisky,  and  I  will  tell  them  to  get  our  cab  ready. 
I  say,  Glazzard,  from  this  evening  forth  never  a  word 
between  us  about  the  secret.  That  is  understood,  of 
course.  You  may  let  people  know  that  you  were  in 
my  confidence  about  the  private  marriage.  But  I  can 
trust  your  discretion  as  my  own.  Your  glass — pledge 
me  in  the  old  style !  " 

Ten  minutes  more,  and  they  were  driving  back  to 
Polterham. 


X 


But  for  domestic  warfare,  Mrs.  Mumbray  would  often 
have  been  at  a  loss  how  to  spend  her  time.  The  year 
of  her  husband's  Mayoralty  supplied,  it  is  true,  a  good 
many  unwonted  distractions,  but  in  the  middle  of  the 
morning,  and  late  in  the  evening  (if  there  were  no 
dinner-party),  ennui  too  frequently  weighed  upon  her. 
For  relief  in  the  former  case,  she  could  generally  resort 
to  a  quarrel  with  Serena;  in  the  latter,  she  preferred  to 
wrangle  with  her  spouse. 

One  morning  early  in  December,  having  indulged  her 
ill-humour  with  even  more  than  usual  freedom  among 
the  servants,  she  repaired  to  the  smaller  drawing-room, 
where,  at  this  hour,  her  daughter  often  sat  reading. 
Serena  was  at  a  table,  a  French  book  and  dictionary 
open  before  her.  After  hovering  for  a  few  moments 
Avith  eyes  that  gathered  wrath,  the  Mayoress  gave  voice 
to  her  feelings. 

"  So  you  pay  no  attention  to  my  wishes,  Serena ! 
I  will  not  have  you  reading  such  books !  " 

Her  daughter  rustled  the  dictionary,  impassive. 
Conscious  of  reduced  authority,  Mrs.  Mumbray  glared 
and  breathed  hard,  her  spacious  bosom  working  like  a 
troubled  sea. 

"Your  behaviour  astonishes  me! — after  what  you 
heard  Mr.  Vialls  say." 


106  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"Mr.  Vialls  is  an  ignorant  and  foolish  man,"  re- 
marked Serena,  without  looking  up. 

Then  did  the  mother's  rage  burst  forth  without 
restraint,  eloquent,  horrisonous.  As  if  to  save  her  ears, 
Serena  went  to  the  piano  and  began  to  play.  When 
the  voice  was  silenced,  she  turned  round. 

"  You  had  rather  have  me  play  than  read  that  book  ? 
That  shows  how  little  you  understand  of  either.  This 
is  an  immoral  piece  of  music!  If  you  knew  what  it 
meant  you  would  scream  in  horror.  It  is  immoral,  and 
I  am  going  to  practise  it  day  after  day." 

The  Mayoress  stood  awhile  in  mute  astonishment, 
then,  with  purple  face,  swept  from  the  room. 

The  family  consisted  of  four  persons.  Serena's 
brother,  a  young  gentleman  of  nineteen,  articled  to  a 
solicitor  in  the  town,  was  accustomed  to  appear  at  meals, 
but  seldom  deigned  to  devote  any  more  of  his  leisure  to 
the  domestic  circle.  After  luncheon  to-day,  as  he  stood 
at  the  window  with  a  sporting  newspaper,  his  mother 
addressed  him. 

"  We  have  company  this  evening,  Kaglan.  Take  care 
that  you're  not  late." 

"  Who's  coming  ?  "  asked  the  young  man,  without 
looking  up. 

"  Mr.  Eustace  Glazzard  and  Miss  Glazzard." 

"  Any  one  else  ?  " 

"Mr.  Vialls." 

"  Then  you  don't  catch  me  here  I  I  have  an  appoint- 
ment at  eight." 

"I  insist  upon  your  dining  with  us!  If  you  are  not 
at  dinner,  I  will  have  your  allowance  stojiped !  I  mean 
what  I  say.  Not  one  penny  more  shall  you  receive  until 
you  have  learnt  to  behave  yourself!  " 


DEXZIL   QUARRIER  107 

"  We'll  see  about  that,"  replied  Eaglan,  with  finished 
coolness ;  and,  folding  his  newspaper,  he  walked  off. 

Xor  did  the  hour  of  dinner  see  his  return.  The 
expected  guests  arrived;  it  was  not  strictly  a  dinner- 
party, but,  as  Mr.  Mumbray  described  it,  "a  quiet 
evening  ong  fammil."  The  Rev.  Scatchard  Vialls  came 
in  at  the  last  moment  with  perspiring  brow,  excusing 
himself  on  the  ground  of  jirofessional  duties.  He  was 
thin,  yet  flabby,  had  a  stoop  in  the  shoulders,  and 
walked  without  noticeably  bending  his  knees.  The 
crown  of  his  head  went  to  a  peak;  he  had  eyes  like  a 
ferret's;  his  speech  was  in  a  high,  nasal  note.  For 
some  years  he  had  been  a  widower,  a  fact  which  per- 
haps accounted  for  his  insinuating  manner  when  he 
approached  Miss  Mumbray. 

The  dinner  was  portentously  dull.  Ivy  Glazzard 
scarcely  uttered  a  syllable.  Her  uncle  exerted  himself 
to  shape  phrases  of  perfect  inoffensiveness,  addressing 
now  his  hostess,  now  Serena.  The  burden  of  conver- 
sation fell  upon  Mr.  Vialls,  who  was  quite  equal  to  its 
support;  he  spoke  of  the  evil  tendencies  of  the  time  as 
exhibited  in  a  shameful  attempt  to  establish  Sunday 
evening  concerts  at  a  club  of  Polterham  workmen. 
His  discourse  on  this  subject,  systematically  developed, 
lasted  until  the  ladies  withdrew.  It  allowed  him 
scarcely  any  attention  to  his  plate,  but  Mr.  Vialls  had 
the  repute  of  an  ascetic.  In  his  buttonhole  was  a  piece 
of  blue  ribbon,  symbol  of  a  ferocious  total-abstinence; 
his  face  would  have  afforded  sufficient  proof  that 
among  the  reverend  man's  failings  were  few  distinctly 
of  the  flesh. 

The  Mayor  did  not  pretend  to  asceticism.  He  ate 
largely  and  without  much  discrimination.   His  variously 


108  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

shaped  and  coloured  glasses  were  not  merel}^  for  display. 
AVlien  the  door  had  closed  behind  the  Mayoress  and  her 
two  companions,  he  settled  himself  with  an  audible 
sigh,  and  for  a  few  moments  wore  a  look  of  meditation; 
then,  leaning  towards  Glazzard,  he  inquired  gravely : 

"  What  is  your  opinion  of  the  works  of  Bawlzac  ?  " 

The  guest  was  at  a  loss  for  an  instant,  but  he  quickly 
recovered  himself. 

"  Ah,  the  French  novelist  ?  A  man  of  great  power, 
but — hardly  according  to  English  tastes." 

"  Should  you  consider  him  suitable  reading  for  young 
ladies  ?  " 

"Well,  hardly.  Some  of  his  books  are  unobjection- 
able." 

Mr.  Vialls  shot  a  fierce  glance  at  him. 

"  In  my  oj)inion,  his  very  name  is  pollution !  I  would 
not  permit  a  page  of  his  writing,  or  of  that  of  any 
French  novelist,  to  enter  my  house.  One  and  all  are 
drenched  with  impurity !  " 

"  Certainly  many  of  them  are,"  conceded  Glazzard. 

"  Lamentable,"  sighed  the  Mayor,  raising  his  glass, 
"to  think  that  quite  a  large  number  of  his  books  have 
been  put  into  the  Institute  library!  We  must  use  our 
influence  on  all  hands,  Mr.  Vialls.  We  live  in  sad 
times.  Even  the  theatre — I  am  told  that  some  of  the 
plays  produced  in  London  are  disgraceful,  simply 
disgraceful! " 

The  theatre  was  discussed,  Mr.  Vialls  assailing  it  as  a 
mere  agent  of  j^opular  corruption.  On  the  mention  of 
the  name  of  Shakspere,  Mr,  Mumbray  exclaimed : 

"  Shakspere  needs  a  great  deal  of  expurgating. 
But  some  of  his  plays  teach  a  good  lessoii,  I  think. 
There  is  '  Romeo  and  Juliet,'  for  instance."     Glazzard 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  109 

looked  up  in  surprise.  "I  read  '  Romeo  and  Juliet^  not 
long  ago,  and  it  struck  me  that  its  intention  was 
decidedly  moral.  It  points  a  lesson  to  disobedient 
young  people.  If  Juliet  had  been  properly  submissive 
to  her  parents,  such  calamities  would  never  have 
befallen  her.  Then,  again,  I  Avas  greatly  struck 
with  the  fate  that  overtook  Mercutio — a  most  suitable 
punishment  for  his  persistent  use  of  foul  language. 
Did  you  ever  see  it  in  that  light,  Mr.  Glazzard  ? " 

"  I  confess  it  is  new  to  me.     I  shall  think  it  over." 

The  Mayor  beamed  with  gratification. 

"No  one  denies,"  struck  in  Mr.  Vialls,  "that  to  a 
pure  mind  all  things  are  pure.  Shakspere  is 
undoubtedly  a  great  poet,  and  a  soul  bent  on  edification 
can  extract  much  good  from  him.  But  for  people  in 
general,  especially  young  people,  assuredly  he  cannot 
be  recommended,  even  in  the  study.  I  confess  I  have 
neither  time  nor  much  inclination  for  poetry — except 
that  of  the  sacred  volume,  which  is  poetry  indeed.  I 
have  occasionally  found  pleasure  in  Longfellow  " 

"  Pardon  me,"  interrupted  the  Mayor — "  Longfellow  ? 
— the  author  of  that  poem  called  '  Excelsior '  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Now,  really — I  am  surprised — I  should  have  thought 
— the  fact  is,  when  Raglan  was  at  school,  he  had  to 
learn  '  Excelsior,'  and  I  happened  to  glance  over  it.  I 
was  slightly  acquainted  with  the  piece,  but  I  had  quite 
forgotten  that  it  contained  what  seems  to  me  very  gross 
indelicacy — very  gross  indeed.  Do  you  remember  a 
verse  beginning  (I  must  ask  your  pardon  for  quoting  it, 
Mr.  Vialls)— 

'  Oil  stay,'  the  maiden  cried,  'and  rest 
Thy  weary  head  upon  this  breast,' 


110  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

Surely,  that  is  all  but  indecency.  In  fact,  I  wrote  at 
once  to  the  master  and  drew  his  attention  to  the  pas- 
sage, requesting  that  my  boy  might  never  be  asked  to 
repeat  such  a  poem.  The  force  of  my  objection  was  not 
at  once  admitted,  strange  to  say;  but  in  the  end  I  gained 
my  point." 

Mr.  Vialls  screwed  up  his  lips  and  frowned  at  the 
table-cloth,  but  said  nothing. 

"  Our  task  nowadays,"  pursued  the  Major,  with  con- 
fidence, "  is  to  preserve  the  purity  of  home.  Our  homes 
are  being  invaded  by  dangerous  influences  we  must  re- 
sist. The  family  should  be  a  bulwark  of  virtue — of  all 
the  virtues — holiness,  charity,  peace." 

He  lingered  on  the  last  word,  and  his  gaze  became 
abstracted. 

"  Very  true,  very  true  indeed ! "  cried  the  clergyman. 
"  For  one  thing,  how  careful  a  parent  should  be  with 
regard  to  the  periodical  literature  which  is  allowed  to 
enter  his  house.  This  morning,  in  a  home  I  will  not 
mention,  my  eye  fell  upon  a  weekly  paper  which  I 
should  have  thought  perfectly  sound  in  its  teaching; 
yet,  behold,  there  was  an  article  of  which  the  whole 
purport  was  to  excuse  the  vices  of  the  lower  classes  on 
the  ground  of  their  poverty  and  their  temptations. 
Could  anything  be  more  immoral,  more  rotten  in 
principle?  There  is  the  spirit  we  have  to  contend 
against — a  spirit  of  accursed  lenity  in  morals,  often 
originating  in  so-called  scientific  considerations!  Evil 
is  evil — vice,  vice — the  devil  is  the  devil — be  circum- 
stances what  they  may.  I  do  not  care  to  make  mention 
of  such  monstrous  aberrations  as,  for  instance,  the 
attacks  we  are  occasionally  forced  to  hear  on  the  law  of 
marriage.     That  is  the  mere  reek  of  the  bottomless  pit. 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  111 

palpable  to  all.  But  I  speak  of  subtler  disguises  of 
evil,  such  as  may  recommend  themselves  to  persons 
well-intentioned  but  of  weak  understanding.  Happily, 
I  persuaded  my  friends  to  discontinue  their  countenance 
of  that  weekly  paper,  and  I  shall  exert  myself  every- 
where to  the  same  end." 

They  rose  at  length,  and  went  to  the  drawing-room. 
There  Glazzard  succeeded  in  seating  himself  by  Miss 
Mumbray,  and  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he  talked  with 
her  about  art  and  literature.  The  girl's  face  brightened ; 
she  said  little,  but  that  little  with  very  gracious  smiles. 
Then  Mr.  Vialls  approached,  and  the  tete-a-tete  was 
necessarily  at  an  end. 

When  he  was  at  length  alone  with  his  wife,  the  Mayor 
saw  what  was  in  store  for  him ;  in  fact,  he  had  foreseen 
it  throughout  the  evening. 

"Yes,"  began  the  lady,  with  flashing  eyes,  "this 
is  your  Mr.  Glazzard !  He  encourages  Serena  in 
her  shameful  behaviour!  I  overheard  him  talking  to 
her." 

"You  are  altogether  wrong,  as  usual,"  replied  Mr. 
Mumbray,  with  his  wonted  attempt  at  dignified  self- 
assertion.  "  Glazzard  distinctly  disapproves  of  Bawlzac, 
and  everything  of  that  kind.  His  influence  is  as  irre- 
proachable as  that  of  Mr.  Vialls." 

"  Of  course  !  You  are  determined  to  overthrow  my 
plans  at  whatever  cost  to  your  daughter's  happiness  here 
and  hereafter." 

''  I  don't  think  Vialls  a  suitable  husband  for  her,  and  I 
am  not  sorry  she  won't  listen  to  him.  He's  all  very  well 
as  a  man  and  a  clergyman,  but — pshaw !  what's  the  good 
of  arguing  with  a  pig-headed  woman  ?  " 

This  emphatic  epithet  had  the  result  Avhich  was  to 


113  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

be  expected.  The  debate  became  a  scolding-match, 
lasting  well  into  the  night.  These  two  persons  were 
not  only  on  ill-terms,  they  disliked  each  other  with  the 
intensity  which  can  only  be  engendered  by  thirty  years 
of  a  marriage  such  as,  but  for  public  opinion,  would 
not  have  lasted  thirty  weeks.  Their  reciprocal  disgust 
was  physical,  mental,  moral.  It  could  not  be  concealed 
from  their  friends;  all  Polterham  smiled  over  it;  yet 
the  Mumbrays  were  regarded  as  a  centre  of  moral  and 
religious  influence,  a  power  against  the  encroaches  of 
rationalism  and  its  attendant  depravity.  Neither  of 
them  could  point  to  dignified  ancestry;  by  steady  per- 
sistence in  cant  and  snobbishness — the  genuine  expres- 
sion of  their  natures — they  had  pushed  to  a  prominent 
place,  and  feared  nothing  so  much  as  depreciation  in 
the  eyes  of  the  townsfolk.  Raglan  and  Serena  were 
causing  them  no  little  anxiety;  both,  though  in  differ- 
ent ways,  might  prove  an  occasion  of  scandal.  When 
Eustace  Glazzard  began  to  present  himself  at  the  house, 
Mr.  Mumbray  welcomed  the  significant  calls.  From 
his  point  of  view,  Serena  could  not  do  better  than  marry 
a  man  of  honourable  name,  who  would  remove  her  to 
London.  Out  of  mere  contrariety,  Mrs.  Mumbray 
thereupon  began  to  encourage  the  slow  advances  of  her 
Eector,  who  thought  of  Serena's  fortune  as  a  means  to 
the  wider  activity,  the  greater  distinction,  for  which  he 
was  hungering. 

Glazzard's  self-contempt  as  he  went  home  this  evening 
was  not  unmingled  with  pleasanter  thoughts.  For  a 
man  in  his  position,  Serena  Mumbray  and  her  thousands 
did  not  represent  a  future  of  despair.  He  had  always 
aimed  much  higher,  but  defeat  after  defeat  left  him  with 
shaken  nerves,  and  gloomy  dialogues  with  his  brother 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  113 

had  impressed  upon  him  the  necessity  of  guarding 
against  darkest  possibilities.  His  state  of  mind  was 
singularly  morbid ;  he  could  not  trust  the  fixity  of  his 
purposes  for  more  than  a  day  or  two  together;  but  just 
at  present  he  thought  without  distaste  of  Serena  her- 
self, and  was  soothed  by  the  contemplation  of  her  (to 
him  modest)  fortune.  During  the  past  month  he  had 
been  several  times  to  and  from  London;  to-morrow  he 
would  return  to  town  again,  and  view  his  progress  from 
a  distance. 

On  reaching  his  brother's  house,  he  found  a  letter 
waiting  for  him ;  it  bore  the  Paris  postmark.  The  con- 
tents were  brief. 

"Deak  Glazzard  : 

"I  announce  to  you  the  fact  of  our  marriage. 
The  L.s  will  hear  of  it  simultaneously.  We  are  enjoy- 
ing ourselves. 

"  Ever  yours,  D.  Q." 

He  went  at  once  to  the  room  where  William  was 
sitting,  and  said,  in  a  quiet  voice : 

"Quarrier  has  just  got  married — in  Paris." 

"Oh!     To  whom  ?'^ 

"An  English  girl  who  has  been  a  governess  at 
Stockholm.     I  knew  it  was  impending." 

"  Has  he  made  a  fool  of  himself  ? "  asked  William, 
dispassionately. 

"  I  think  not ;  she  seems  to  be  well  educated,  and 
good-looking — according  to  his  report." 

"  Why  didn't  you  mention  it  before  ?  " 

"  Oh,  his  wish.  We  talked  it  all  over  when  he  was 
here.  He  has  an  idea  that  a  man  about  to  be  married 
always  cuts  a  ridiculous  figure." 


114  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

The  elder  man  looked  puzzled. 

"  No  mysteries — eh  ?  " 

"  None  whatever,  I  believe.  A  decent  girl  without 
fortune,  that's  all.  I  suppose  we  shall  see  them  before 
long." 

The  subject  was  shortly  dismissed,  and  Eustace  fell 
to  reporting  the  remarkable  conversation  in  which  he 
had  taken  part  at  the  Mayor's  table.  His  brother  was 
moved  to  no  little  mirth,  but  did  not  indulge  in  such 
savage  contemptuousness  as  distinguished  the  narrator. 
William  Glazzard  viewed  the  world  from  a  standpoint 
of  philosophic  calm;  he  ex2)ected  so  little  of  men  in 
general,  that  disappointment  or  vexation  could  rarely 
befall  him. 

"These  people,"  he  observed,  "think  themselves 
pillars  of  society,  and  the  best  of  the  Joke  is,  that  they 
really  are  what  they  imagine.  Without  tolerably 
honest  fools,  we  should  fare  badly  at  the  hands  of  those 
who  have  neither  wits  nor  honesty.  Let  us  encourage 
them,  by  all  means.  I  see  no  dawn  as  yet  of  the 
millennium  of  brains." 


XI 

The  weather,  for  this  time  of  year,  was  unusually  bright 
in  Paris.  Each  morning  glistened  with  hoar-frost;  by 
noon  the  sky  shone  blue  over  clean,  dry  streets,  and 
gardens  which  made  a  season  for  themselves,  leafless, 
yet  defiant  of  winter's  melanchoh^  Lilian  saw  it  all 
with  the  eyes  of  a  stranger,  and  often  was  able  to  forget 
her  anxiety  in  the  Joy  of  wonderful,  new  impressions. 

One  afternoon  she  was  resting  in  the  room  at  the 
hotel,  whilst  Quarrier  went  about  the  town  on  some 
business  or  other.  A  long  morning  at  the  Louvre  had 
tired  her,  and  her  spirits  drooped.  In  imagination  she 
went  back  to  the  days  of  silence  and  solitude  in  London; 
the  memory  affected  her  with  something  of  home- 
sickness, a  wish  that  the  past  could  be  restored.  The 
little  house  by  Clapham  Common  had  grown  dear  to 
her ;  in  its  shelter  she  had  shed  many  tears,  but  also  had 
known  much  happiness:  that  sense  of  security  which 
was  now  lost,  the  hope  that  there  she  might  live  always, 
hidden  from  the  world's  inquisitive  gaze.  Justified  to  her 
own  conscience  by  love  and  calm.  AVhat  now  was 
before  her  ?  Not  only  the  elaborate  deceit,  the  per- 
petual risk,  weighed  upon  her  heart;  she  was  summoned 
to  a  position  such  as  she  had  never  foreseen,  for  which 
she  had  received  no  training.  "When  Denzil  revealed  to 
her  his  real  standing  in  the  world,  spoke  laughingly  of 
the   wealth    he    had    inherited,   and    of   his   jiolitical 


116  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

ambitions,  her  courage  failed  before  the  prospect.  She 
had  not  dared  to  let  him  see  all  her  despondency,  for  his 
impatient  and  sanguine  temper  would  have  resented  it. 
To  please  him  and  satisfy  his  utmost  demands  was  the 
one  purpose  of  her  life.  But  the  task  he  had  imposed 
seemed  to  her,  in  these  hours  of  faintness,  no  less  than 
terrible. 

He  entered,  gay  as  usual,  ready  with  tender  words, 
pet  names  and  diminutives,  the  "little  language"  of 
one  who  was  still  a  lover.  Seeing  how  things  were  with 
her,  he  sat  down  to  look  over  an  English  newspaper. 
Presently  his  attention  strayed,  he  fell  into  reverie. 

"  AVell,"  he  exclaimed  at  length,  rousing  himself, 
"  they  have  the  news  by  now." 

She  gave  no  answer. 

"  I  can  imagine  how  Mary  will  talk.  '  Oh,  nothing 
that  Denzil  does  can  surprise  me  !  Whoever  expected 
him  to  marry  in  the  ordinary  way  ? '  And  then  they'll 
laugh,  and  shrug  their  shoulders,  and  hope  I  mayn't 
have  played  the  fool — good,  charitable  folks  !  " 

Still  she  said  nothing. 

"  Eather  out  of  sorts  to-day,  Lily  ?  " 

"I  wish  we  were  going  to  stay  here — never  to  go 
back  to  England." 

"  Live  the  rest  of  our  lives  in  a  Paris  hotel  ! " 

"  No,  no — in  some  quiet  place — a  home  of  our  own." 

"That  wouldn't  suit  me,  by  any  means.  Paris  is 
all  very  well  for  a  holiday,  but  I  couldn't  make  a  home 
here.  There's  no  place  like  England.  Don't  you  ever 
think  what  an  unspeakable  blessing  it  is  to  have  been 
born  in  England  ?  Every  time  I  go  abroad,  I  rejoice 
that  I  am  not  as  these  foreigners.  Even  my  Scandi- 
navian friends  I  can't  help  despising  a  little — and  as  for 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  117 

Frenclimeii !     There's  a  great  deal   of  the   old  island 
prejudice  in  me." 

Lilian  smiled,  raising  herself  slightly  upon  the  sofa. 

"These  old  Latin  nations  have  had  their  day,"  he 
continued,  with  a  wave  of  the  arm.  "France,  Italy, 
Spain — they  have  played  their  part  in  civilization,  and 
have  nothing  left  now  but  old  relics  and  modern  bluster. 
The  future's  with  us  Teutons.  If  I  were  not  an 
Englishman,  I  would  be  an  American.  The  proba- 
bility is  that  we  shall  have  a  hard  fight  one  of  these 
days  with  the  Slavs — and  all  the  better,  perhaps ;  I  don't 
think  the  world  can  do  without  fighting  yet  awhile." 

"  I  should  be  sorry  to  hear  you  teaching  people  that," 
said  Lilian. 

"  Oh,"  he  laughed,  "  it  wouldn't  fit  into  our  electoral 
campaign!  No  danger  of  my  preaching  bloodthirsti- 
ness.  But  how  I  shall  enjoy  the  bloodless  fight  down  at 
Polterham!  I  want  you  to  look  forward  to  it  in  the 
same  way.  Do  cheer  up,  Lily! — you  see  I  have  been 
gradually  moving  in  this  direction.  When  I  found 
myself  a  man  of  means,  I  knew  that  the  time  had  come 
for  stirring.  Writing  about  the  Sea-Kin gs  is  all  very 
well  in  its  way,  but  I  am  no  born  literary  man.  I  must 
get  that  book  finished  and  published,  though.  It  might 
help  me  with  the  constituency,  A  book  gives  a  man 
distinction." 

"  You  seem  to  me  to  have  changed  very  much." 
"  No ;  it's  only  that  you  didn't  know  me  thoroughly. 
To  tell  you  the  truth,  that  life  of  hiding  away  in 
London  wasn't  a  very  good  thing  for  me,  I  lived  too 
much  to  myself.  The  half-dozen  acquaintances  I  had 
were  not  the  kind  of  men  to  profit  me.  Glazzard — 
well,  Glazzard  is  an  odd  sort  of  fellow— helpful  now  and 


118  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

then,  but  on  the  whole  musty.  He  has  no  ambition, 
thinks  it  enough  to  doze  on  among  his  pictures,  and 
that  kind  of  thing.  The  fact  is,  such  companionship 
has  made  me  conceited.  I  want  to  get  among  my 
equals  and  my  superiors — as  I  shall  do  if  I  become  a 
Member  of  Parliament." 

"  Your  equals — perhaps." 

"Confound  it  !  Vour  influence  has  tended  the 
same  way.  You  spoil  me — make  me  think  myself  a 
fine  fellow.  I  suppose  one's  wife  ought  to  talk  like 
that — I  don't  dislike  it,  you  know ;  but  if  I  end  by  never 
doing  anything  at  all,  I  should  be  confoundedly 
ashamed  of  myself.  But  the  more  I  think  of  it,  the 
better  satisfied  I  am  that  a  political  career  is  the  best 
thing  for  me.  You  see,  this  is  the  age  of  political 
progress — that  before  everything.  We  English  are 
working  out  our  revolution  in  a  steady  and  sensible  way, 
— no  shrieking  and  slaughtering — we  leave  that  to 
people  who  don't  really  know  what  they  want,  and  will 
never  get  much  to  speak  of.  AVe  go  ahead  soberly 
on  the  constitutional  highway — with  a  little  hearty 
swearing  to  clear  the  air  now  and  then." 

Lilian  laughed. 

"Well,  I  was  saying  it  is  a  political  age,  and  I 
think  a  man  ought  to  go  in  for  the  first  interest  of  his 
time.  What  have  we  to  do  just  now  with  artistic 
aims  ?  The  English,  at  any  time,  care  little  or  nothing 
for  art;  one  has  to  recognize  that.  Our  task  in  the 
world  is  practical — to  secure  all  men  a  sufficiency  of 
beef  and  beer,  and  honest  freedom.  I  like  to  feel  that 
I  am  on  the  advancing  wave;  I  don't  care  for  your 
picturesque  ponds;  they  generally  have  a  bad  smell." 

The   effect    of   his   vigorous   talk   was   manifest  in 


DENZIL  QUAKRIER  119 

Lilian^s  face.  She  yielded  her  spirit  to  his,  was  borne 
whither  he  would. 

"You  talk  of  living  in  Paris — wlw,  if  you  really 
knew  Paris,  you  would  hate  the  place.  Underneath 
all  this  show  of  civilization,  refinement,  brilliancy — I'm 
glad  to  say  you  can't  even  guess  what  it  covers.  The 
town  reeks  with  abominations.     I'm  getting  sick  of  it." 

The  sincerity  of  his  moral  disgust  was  obvious.  No 
one  knew  so  well  as  Lilian  the  essential  purity — even 
the  puritanism — of  Quarrier's  temper. 

"For  all  that,"  he  added,  merrily,  ^' we'll  go  and 
dine  at  the  restaurant,  and  then  look  in  at  the 
Fran(;ais.  They  know  how  to  cook  here,  and  they 
know  how  to  play  the  fool — no  denying  it." 

When  Lilian  went  forth  with  him  she  had  once 
more  succeeded  in  overcoming  her  despondent  mood. 
The  lights  of  the  Boulevard  exercised  their  wonted 
effect — cheering,  insjjiring.  She  pressed  his  arm, 
laughed  at  his  mirthful  talk;  and  Denzil  looked  down 
into  her  face  with  pride  and  delight  in  its  loveliness. 
He  had  taken  especial  care  to  have  her  dressed  in  the 
manner  that  became  his  wife ;  Parisian  science  had  gone 
to  the  making  of  her  costume,  and  its  efforts  were  not 
wasted.  As  they  entered  the  restaurant,  many  eyes 
were  turned  with  critical  appreciation  upon  the  modest 
face  and  figure,  as  undeniably  English,  in  their  way,  as 
Quarrier's  robust  manhood. 

Denzil's  French  wus  indifferently  good,  better  per- 
haps than  his  capacity  for  picking  out  from  the  bill  of 
fare  a  little  dinner  which  should  exalt  him  in  the  eyes 
of  waiters.  lie  went  to  work,  however,  with  a  noble 
disregard  for  consequences,  whether  to  digestion  or 
pocket.     Where  Lilian  was  concerned  there  could  be  no 


120 


DENZIL  QUARRIER 


such  thing  as  extravagance;  he  gloried  in  obtaining  for 
her  the  best  of  everything  that  money  could  command. 
The  final  "  Bien,  Monsieur,"  was,  after  all,  sufficiently 
respectful,  and  our  friend  leaned  back  with  the  pleasant 
consciousness  of  duty  performed. 

He  drank  a  good  deal  of  wine,  and  talking  with  a 
spontaneity  beyond  the  ordinary  Briton.  Towards  the 
close  of  dinner  his  theme  was  the  coming  electoral 
contest. 

"  You  know,"  he  said,  bending  over  the  table,  "  you 
will  be  able  to  give  me  important  help.  The  wife  of  a 
candidate — especially  of  a  Eadical  candidate — can  find 
plenty  of  work,  if  she  knows  how  to  go  about  it.  As 
little  humbug  as  possible;  and  as  little  loss  of  self- 
respect;  but  we  shall  have  to  shake  a  good  many  dirty 
hands.  Your  turn  for  '  slumming '  will  serve  us  well, 
but  I  know  the  dangers  of  it.  You'll  be  coming  home 
eploree,  as  they  say  here.  I  hope  you'll  grow  stronger 
in  that  respect.    One  has  to  harden  one's  heart  a  little." 

"  I  know  it  is  wiser  to  do  so." 

"Of  course!  It's  not  only  that  you  are  constantly 
imposed  upon ;  the  indulgence  of  universal  sympathy  is 
incompatible  with  duty  to  one's  self — unless  you  become 
at  once  a  sister  of  mercy.  One  is  bound,  in  common 
sense,  to  close  eyes  and  ears  against  all  but  a  trifling 
fraction  of  human  misery.  Why,  look,  we  sit  here,  and 
laugh  and  talk  and  enjoy  ourselves;  yet  at  this  instant 
what  horrors  are  being  enacted  in  every  part  of  the 
world!  Men  are  perishing  by  every  conceivable  form 
of  cruelty  and  natural  anguish.  Sailors  are  gurgling 
out  their  life  in  sea-storms;  soldiers  are  agonizing  on 
battle-fields ;  men,  women,  and  children  are  being  burnt, 
boiled,  hacked,  squashed,  rent,  exploded  to  death  in  every 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  121 

town  and  almost  every  village  of  the  globe.  Here  in 
Paris,  and  over  there  in  London,  there  is  no  end  to  the 
forms  of  misery  our  knowledge  suggests — all  suffered 
while  we  eat  and  talk.  But  to  sit  down  and  think 
persistently  of  it  would  lead  to  madness  in  any  one  of 
imagination  like  yours.  We  have  to  say:  It  doesn't 
concern  us  !  And  no  more  it  does.  We  haven't  the 
ordering  of  the  world;  we  can't  alter  the  vile  course  of 
things.  I  like  to  swear  over  it  now  and  then  (especially 
when  I  pass  a  London  hospital),  but  I  soon  force  myself 
to  think  of  something  else.  You  must  do  the  same — 
even  to  the  swearing,  if  you  like.  There's  a  tendency  in 
our  time  to  excess  of  humanitarianism — I  mean  a  sort 
of  lachrymose  habit  which  really  does  no  good.  You 
represent  it  in  some  degree,  I'm  afraid — eh  ?  Well,  well, 
you've  lived  too  much  alone — you've  got  into  the  way 
of  brooding;  the  habit  of  social  life  will  strengthen  you." 

''  1  hope  so,  Denzil." 

"Oh,  undoubtedly!  One  more  little  drop  of  wine 
befori-  the  coffee.  Nonsense!  You  need  stimulus; 
your  vitality  is  low.  I  shall  prescribe  for  you  hence- 
forth. Merciful  heavens!  how  that  French  woman  does 
talk!  A  hundred  words  to  the  minute  for  the  last  half 
hour." 

A  letter  had  arrived  for  him  at  the  hotel  in  his 
absence.  It  was  from  Mr.  Hornibrook's  agent,  announc- 
ing that  the  house  at  Polterham  was  now  vacated,  and 
that  Mr.  Quarrier  might  take  possession  just  as  soon  as 
he  chose. 

"  Thaffi  all  right!  "  he  exclaimed,  after  reading  it  to 
Lilian.  "  Now  we'll  think  of  getting  back  to  London, 
to  order  our  furniture,  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  The  place 
can  be  made  habitable  in  a  few  weeks,  I  should  say." 


I 


XII 


A.N  emissary  from  Tottenham  Court  Road  sped  down 
to  Polterham,  surveyed  the  vacant  house,  returned  with 
professional  cominitations.  Quarrier  and  Lilian  abode 
at  the  old  home  until  everything  should  be  ready  for 
them,  and  Mrs.  Liversedge  represented  her  brother  on 
the  spot — solving  the  doubts  of  workmen,  hiring  ser- 
vants, making  minor  purchases.  She  invited  Denzil  to 
bring  his  wife,  and  dwell  for  the  present  under  the 
Liversedge  roof,  but  her  brother  preferred  to  wait.  "  I 
don't  like  makeshifts;  we  must  go  straight  into  our 
own  house;  the  dignity  of  the  Eadical  candidate 
requires  it."  So  the  work  glowed,  and  as  little  time 
as  possible  was  sjient  over  its  com2)letion. 

It  was  midway  in  January  when  the  day  and  hour  of 
arrival  were  at  last  appointed.  No  one  was  to  be  in 
the  house  but  the  servants.  At  four  in  the  afternoon 
Mr.  and  Mrs,  Quarrier  would  receive  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Liversedge,  and  thus  make  formal  declaration  of  their 
readiness  to  welcome  friends.  Since  her  return  to 
England,  Lilian  had  seen  no  one.  She  begged  Denzil 
not  to  invite  Glazzard  to  Clapham. 

They  reached  Polterham  at  one  o'clock,  in  the  tumult 
of  a  snowstorm;  ten  minutes  more,  and  the  whitened 
cab  deposited  them  at  their  doorway.  Quarrier  knew, 
of  course,  what  the  general  appearance  of  the  interior 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  123 

-would  be,  and  lie  was  well  satisfied  with  the  way  in 
which  his  directions  had  been  carried  out.  His  com- 
panion was  at  first  overawed  rather  than  pleased.  He 
led  her  from  room  to  room,  saying  frequently,  "  Do  you 
like  it?    Will  it  do?" 

"  It  frightens  me  ! "  murmured  Lilian,  at  length. 
"  How  shall  I  manage  such  a  house  ? " 

She  was  pale,  and  inclined  to  tearfulness,  for  the 
situation  tried  her  fortitude  in  a  degree  Denzil  could 
not  estimate.  Fears  which  were  all  but  terrors,  self- 
reproach  which  had  the  poignancy  of  remorse, 
tormented  her  gentle,  timid  nature.  For  a  week  and 
more  she  had  not  known  unbroken  sleep;  dreams  of 
fantastic  misery  awakened  her  to  worse  distress  in  the 
calculating  of  her  perils  and  conflict  with  insidious 
doubts.  At  the  dead  hour  before  dawn,  faiths  of  child- 
hood revived  before  her  conscience,  upbraiding, 
menacing.  The  common  rules  of  every-day  honour 
spoke  to  her  with  stern  reproval.  Denzil's  arguments, 
when  she  tried  to  muster  them  in  her  defence,  answered 
with  hollow,  meaningless  sound.  Love  alone  would 
stead  her;  she  could  but  shut  her  eyes,  and  breathe,  as 
if  in  prayer,  the  declaration  that  her  love  was  a  sacred 
thing,  cancelling  verbal  untruth. 

She  changed  her  dress,  and  went  down  to  luncheon. 
The  large  dining-room  seemed  to  oppress  her  insignifi- 
cance; to  eat  was  impossible,  and  with  difficulty  she 
conversed  before  the  servants.  Fortunately,  Denzil  was 
in  his  best  spirits;  he  enjoyed  the  wintry  atmosphere, 
talked  of  skating  on  the  ice  which  had  known  him  as  a 
boy,  laughed  over  an  old  story  about  a  snowball  with  a 
stone  in  it  which  had  stunned  him  in  one  of  the  fights 
between  town  and  Grammar  School, 


124 


DENZIL   QUARRIER 


"Pity  the  election  can't  come  on  just  now! — we 
should  have  lively  times.  A  snowball  is  preferable  to 
an  addled  egg  any  day.  The  Poltram  folks  " — this  was 
the  common  pronunciation  of  the  town's  name — "  have 
a  liking  for  missiles  at  seasons  of  excitement." 

From  table,  they  went  to  the  library — as  yet  unfur- 
nished with  volumes — and  made  themselves  comfortable 
by  the  fireside.  Through  the  windows  nothing  could 
be  seen  but  a  tempestuous  whirl  of  flakes.  Lilian's  cat, 
which  had  accompanied  her  in  a  basket,  could  not  as 
yet  make  itself  at  home  on  the  hearthrug,  and  was  glad 
of  a  welcome  to  its  mistress's  lap.  Denzil  lit  a  pipe 
and  studied  the  political  news  of  the  day. 

At  four  o'clock  he  waited  impatiently  the  call  of  his 
relatives.  Lilian,  unable  to  command  her  agitation,  had 
gone  into  another  room,  and  was  there  counting  the 
minutes  as  if  each  cost  her  a  drop  of  heart's  blood.  If 
this  first  meeting  were  but  over!  All  else  seemed  easy, 
could  she  but  face  Denzil's  sister  without  betrayal  of 
her  shame  and  dread.  At  length  she  heard  wheels  roll 
up  to  the  door;  there  were  voices  in  the  hall;  Denzil 
came  forth  with  loud  and  joyous  greeting;  he  led  his 
visitors  into  the  library.  Five  minutes  more  of  anguish, 
and  the  voices  were  again  audible,  approaching,  at  the 
door. 

"  Well,  Lily,  here  is  my  sister  and  Mr.  Liversedge," 
said  Denzil.  "  No  very  formidable  persons,  either  of 
them,"  he  added  merrily,  as  the  best  Avay  of  making 
apology  for  Lilian's  too  obvious  tremor. 

But  she  conquered  her  weakness.  The  man  was  of 
no  account  to  her;  upon  the  woman  only  her  eyes  were 
fixed,  for  there  was  the  piercing  scrutiny,  the  quick 
divination,  the   merciless  censure — there,  if  anywhere, 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  125 

in  one  of  her  own  sex.  From  men  she  might  expect 
tolerance,  justice;  from  women  only  a  swift  choice 
hetween  the  bowl  and  the  dagger.  Pride  prompted  her 
to  hardihood;,  and  Avhen  she  had  well  looked  ujion  Mrs. 
Liversedge's  face  a  soothing  confidence  came  to  the 
support  of  desperation.  She  saw  the  frank  fairness  of 
Denzil's  lineaments  softened  with  the  kindest  of  female 
smiles;  a  gaze  keen  indeed,  but  ingenuous  as  that  of  a 
child;  an  expression  impossible  to  be  interpreted  save 
as  that  of  heartfelt  welcome,  absolutely  unsuspecting, 
touched  even  with  admiriiig  homage. 

They  kissed  each  other,  and  Lilian's  face  glowed. 
After  that,  she  could  turn  almost  joyously  for  Mr. 
Liversedge's  hearty  hand-shake. 

"You  have  come  like  a  sort  of  snow-queen,"  said 
Tobias,  with  unusual  imaginativeness,  pointing  to  the 
windows.     "  It  must  have  begun  just  as  you  got  here." 

Perhaps  the  chill  of  her  fingers  prompted  him  to  this 
poetical  flight.  His  wife,  who  had  noticed  the  same 
thing,  added,  with  practical  fervour: 

"  I  only  hope  the  house  is  thoroughly  dry.  "We  have 
had  great  fires  everyAvhere  for  more  than  a  fortnight. 
As  for  the  snow  and  frost,  you  are  pretty  well  used  to 
that,  no  doubt." 

Painfully  on  the  alert,  Lilian  of  course  understood 
this  allusion  to  the  Northern  land  she  was  supposed  to 
have  quitted  recently. 

"Even  at  Stockholm,"  she  replied,  with  a  smile, 
"  there  is  summer,  you  know." 

"And  in  Russia,  too,  I  have  heard,"  laughed  Mr. 
Liversedge.  "  But  one  doesn't  put  much  faith  in  sucli 
reports.  Denzil  tries  to  persuade  us  now  and  then  that 
the  North  Cape  has  quite  a  balmy  atmosphere,  especially 


12  G  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

from  December  to  March.  He  is  quite  safe.  We 
slia'n't  go  to  test  his  statements." 

Instead  of  a  time  of  misery,  this  first  half-liour  proved 
so  pleasant  that  Lilian  all  but  forgot  the  shadow  stand- 
ing behind  her.  When  tea  was  brought  in,  she  felt 
none  of  the  nervousness  which  had  seemed  to  her 
inevitable  amid  such  luxurious  appliances.  These 
relatives  of  Denzil's,  henceforth  her  own,  were  people 
such  as  she  had  not  dared  to  picture  them — so  un- 
affected, genial,  easy  to  talk  with;  nor  did  she  suffer 
from  a  necessity  of  uttering  direct  falsehoods;  conver- 
sation dealt  with  the  present  and  the  future — partly,  no 
doubt,  owing  to  Quarrier's  initiative.  Mr.  Liversedge 
made  a  report  of  local  affairs  as  they  concerned  the 
political  outlook ;  he  saw  every  reason  for  hojie. 

" Welwyn-Baker,"  he  said,  "is  quite  set  up  again, 
and  I  am  told  he  has  no  inclination  to  retire  in  favour 
of  his  son,  or  any  one  else.  An  obstinate  old  fellow — 
and  may  his  obstinacy  increase!  The  Tories  are 
beginning  to  see  that  they  ought  to  set  up  a  new  man; 
they  are  quarrelling  among  themselves.  That  bazaar  at 
the  opening  of  the  new  Society's  rooms — the  Constitu- 
tional Literary,  you  know — seems  to  have  been  a  failure. 
No  one  was  satisfied.  The  Mercury  printed  savage 
letters  from  a  lot  of  people— blaming  this,  that,  and  the 
other  person  in  authority.  The  Examiner  chuckled, 
and  hasn't  done  referring  to  the  matter  yet." 

Apart  with  Lilian,  Mrs.  Liversedge  had  begun  to  talk 
of  the  society  of  Polterham.  She  did  not  try  to  be 
witty  at  the  expense  of  her  neighbours,  but  confessed 
with  a  sly  smile  that  literature  and  the  arts  were  not 
quite  so  well  appreciated  as  might  be  wished. 

"You  are  a  serious  student,  I  know— very  learned  in 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  127 

languages.  I  wish  I  had  had  more  time  for  reading, 
and  a  better  head.  But  seven  children,  you  know — oh 
dear!  Even  my  little  bit  of  French  has  got  so  ragged 
that  I  am  really  ashamed  of  it.  But  there  is  one  woman 
who  studies.     Has  Denzil  sjioken  to  you  of  Mrs.  Wade  ?'' 

"  I  don't  remember." 

"  She  is  no  great  favourite  of  his,  I  believe.  You 
will  soon  hear  of  her,  and  no  doubt  see  her.  Denzil 
admits  that  she  is  very  clever — even  a  Greek  scholar !  " 

"  Really!     And  what  fault  does  he  find  with  her  ?" 

"She  is  a  great  supporter  of  woman's  rights,  and 
occasionally  makes  speeches.  It's  only  of  late  that  I 
have  seen  much  of  her;  for  some  reason  she  seems  to 
have  taken  a  liking  to  me,  and  I  feel  rather  honoured. 
I'm  sure  her  intentions  are  very  good  indeed,  and  it 
must  be  trying  to  live  among  people  who  have  no 
sympathy  with  you.  They  make  sad  fun  of  her,  and 
altogether  misunderstand  her — at  least  I  think  so." 

The  snowstorm  still  raged.  To  spare  their  own 
horses,  the  Liversedges  had  come  in  a  cab,  and  at  half- 
past  five  the  same  vehicle  returned  to  take  them  home. 
Lilian  was  sorry  to  see  them  go. 

"  Where  are  all  your  apprehensions  now  ? "  cried 
Denzil,  coming  back  to  her  from  the  hall.  "  It's  over, 
you  see.  Not  another  minute's  uneasiness  need  you 
iiave!" 

"  They  were  kindness  itself.     I  like  them  veri/  much." 

"As  I  knew  and  said  you  would.  Now,  no  more 
chalky  faces  and  frightened  looks!  Be  jolly,  and  forget 
everything.     Let  us  try  your  piano." 

"Your  sister  was  telling  me  about  Mrs.  Wade.  Is 
she  one  of  the  peojjle  you  would  like  me  to  be  friends 
with  ?  " 


128 


DENZIL  QUAKRIER 


"  Oh  yes !  "  lie  answered,  laugliing,  "  Mrs.  Wade  will 
interest  you,  no  doubt.  Make  a  friend  of  her  by  all 
means.     Did  Mary  whisjier  mysterious  warnings  ?  " 

"Anything  but;  she  sjioke  very  favourably." 

"Indeed!" 

"  And  she  said  Mrs.  Wade  seemed  to  have  taken  a 
liking  to  her  lately." 

"  Oh  !  How's  that,  I  Avonder  ?  She  goes  about 
seeking  whom  she  may  secure  for  the  womeu's-vote 
movement;  I  suppose  it's  Molly's  turn  to  be  attacked. 
Oh,  we  shall  have  many  a  lively  half-hour  when  Mrs. 
Wade  calls!" 

"  What  is  her  husband  ?  " 

"  Husband !  She's  a  widow.  I  never  thought  of 
such  a  person  as  Mr.  Wade,  to  this  moment.  To  be 
sure,  he  must  have  existed.     Perhaps  she  will  confide  in 

you,  and  then By-the-bye,  is  it  right  for  women  to 

tell  their  husbands  what  they  learn  from  female  friends?" 

He  asked  it  jokingly,  but  Lilian  seemed  to  reflect  in 
earnest. 

"  I'm  not  sure  " 

"  Oh,  you  lily  of  the  valley ! "  he  cried,  interrupting 
her.  "Do  cultivate  a  sense  of  humour.  Don't  take 
things  with  such  desperate  seriousness !  Come  and  try 
your  instrument.  It  ought  to  be  a  good  one,  if  price- 
lists  mean  anything." 

The  next  morning  was  clear  and  cold.  Assuredly 
there  would  be  good  skating,  and  the  prospect  of  this 
enjoyment  seemed  to  engross  Denzil's  thoughts.  After 
breakfast  he  barely  glanced  at  the  newspapers,  then, 
leaving  Lilian  to  enter  upon  her  domestic  rule,  set  forth 
for  an  examination  of  the  localities  which  offered  scope 
to  Polterham  skaters.     Such  youthful  zeal  proved  his 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  129 

thorough  harmony  with  the  English  spirit;  it  promised 
far  more  for  his  success  as  a  politician  than  if  he  had 
spent  the  morning  over  blue-books  and  statistical 
treatises. 

If  only  the  snow  were  cleared  away,  the  best  skating 
near  at  hand  was  on  a  piece  of  water  near  the  road  to 
Kickstead.  The  origin  of  this  pond  or  lakelet  had 
caused  discussion  among  local  antiquaries;  for  tradition 
said  that  it  occujDied  the  site  of  a  meadow  which  many 
years  ago  mysteriously  sank,  owing  j^erhaps  to  the  un- 
suspected existence  of  an  ancient  mine.  It  connected 
with  a  little  tributary  of  the  Kiver  Bale,  and  Avas  be- 
lieved to  be  very  deep,  especially  at  one  point,  where 
the  tree-shadowed  bank  overhung  the  water  at  a  height 
of  some  ten  feet.  The  way  thither  was  by  a  field-path, 
starting  from  the  high  road  within  sight  of  Pear-tree 
Cottage.  At  a  rajjid  walk  Quarrier  soon  reached  his 
goal,  and  saw  with  satisfaction  that  men  and  boys  were 
sweeping  the  snowy  surface,  whilst  a  few  people  had 
already  begun  to  disport  themselves  where  the  black  ice 
came  to  view.  In  the  afternoon  he  would  come  with 
Lilian;  for  the  present,  a  second  purpose  occupied  his 
thoughts.  Standing  on  the  bank  of  Bale  Water  (thus 
was  it  named),  he  could  see  the  topmost  branches  of 
that  pear-tree  which  grew  in  the  garden  behind  Mrs. 
Wade's  cottage;  two  meadows  lay  between — a  stretch 
of  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  It  was  scarcely  the  hour 
for  calling  upon  ladies,  but  he  knew  that  Mrs.  Wade  sat 
among  her  books  through  the  morning,  and  he  wished 
especially  to  see  her  as  soon  as  possible. 

Polterham  clocks  were  counting  eleven  as  he  presented 
himself  at  the  door  of  the  cottage.  Once  already  he 
had  paid  a  call  here,  not  many  days  after  his  meeting 


130  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

with  the  widow  in  Mr.  Horuibrook's  library;  he  came 
at  three  in  the  afternoon,  and  sat  talking  till  nearly  six. 
Not  a  few  Polterhani  matrons  would  have  considered 
that  proceeding  highly  improper,  but  such  a  thought 
never  occurred  to  Denzil;  and  Mrs.  Wade  would  have 
sj)oken  her  mind  very  distinctly  to  any  one  who  wished  to 
circumscribe  female  freedom  in  such  respects.  They  had 
conversed  on  a  great  variety  of  subjects  Avith  unflagging 
animation.     Since  then  he  had  not  seen  his  acquaintance. 

A  young  girl  oj^ened  to  him,  and  left  him  standing 
in  the  porch  for  a  minute  or  two.  She  returned,  and 
asked  him  to  walk  into  the  sitting-room,  where  Mrs. 
Wade  was  studying  Avith  her  feet  on  the  fender. 

"  Do  I  come  unseasonably?"  he  asked,  offering  his  hand. 

"  Not  if  you  have  anything  interesting  to  say,"  was 
the  curious  reply. 

The  widow  Avas  not  accoutred  for  reception  of  visitors. 
She  wore  an  old  though  quite  presentable  dress,  Avith  a 
light  shawl  about  her  shoulders,  and  had  evidently  post- 
poned the  arrangement  of  her  hair  until  the  time  of 
going  abroad.  Yet  her  appearance  could  hardly  be 
called  disconcerting,  for  it  had  nothing  of  slovenliness. 
She  looked  a  student,  that  Avas  all.  For  some  reason, 
however,  she  gave  Quarrier  a  less  cordial  welcome  than 
he  had  anticipated.  Her  eyes  avoided  his,  she  shook 
hands  in  a  perfunctory  Avay. 

"It  depends  what  you  call  interesting,"  was  his  re- 
Joinder  to  the  unconventional  reply.  *'  I  got  here  yes- 
terday, and  brought  a  Avife  Avith  me — there,  at  all  events, 
is  a  statement  of  fact." 

"  You  have  done  me  the  honour  to  hasten  here  Avitli 
the  announcement  ?  " 

"  I  came  out  to  see  if  Bale  Water  was  skateable,  and 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  131 

I  thought  I  might  venture  to  make  a  friendly  call  whilst 
I  was  so  near.     But  I'm  afraid  I  disturb  you  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit  !  Pray  sit  down  and  talk.  Of  course  I 
have  heard  of  your  marriage.  Why  didn't  you  let  me 
know  it  was  imjjending  ?  " 

"  Because  I  told  nobody.  I  chose  to  get  married  in 
my  own  Avay.  You,  Mrs.  Wade,  are  not  likely  to  find 
fault  with  me  for  that." 

"  Oh  dear  no  ! "  she  answered,  with  friendly  in- 
difference. 

"  I  am  told  you  see  a  good  deal  of  the  Liversedges  ?  " 

She  nodded. 

"  Does  my  sister  give  any  j^romise  of  reaching  higher 
levels  ?     Or  is  she  a  hopeless  groveller  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Liversedge  is  tlie  kind  of  woman  I  can  respect, 
independently  of  her  views." 

"  I  like  to  hear  you  say  that,  because  I  know  you 
don't  deal  in  comjjlinientary  phrases.  The  respect,  I 
am  sure,  is  reciprocated." 

Mrs.  Wade  seemed  to  give  slight  attention;  she  was 
looking  at  a  picture-above  the  fireplace. 

"You  will  count  my  wife  among  your  friends,  I 
hope  ?  "  he  continued. 

"  I  hope  so.  Do  you  think  we  shall  understand  each 
other  ?  " 

"  If  not,  it  won't  be  for  lack  of  good  Avill  on  her  side. 
I  mustn't  begin  to  praise  her,  but  I  think  you  will  find 
she  has  a  very  fair  portion  of  brains." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  that." 

"  Do  yoii  imply  that  you  had  fears  ?  " 

"  Men  are  occasionally  odd  in  their  choice  of  wives." 

"  Yes,"  Denzil  replied,  with  a  laugh;  "I  have  seen 
remarkable  illustrations  of  it." 


132  DENZIL  QUABRIER 

"  I  didn't  feel  sure  that  you  regarded  brains  as  an 
essential." 

"  Indeed  !  Then  you  were  a  long  way  from  under- 
standing me.  How  can  you  say  that,  after  my  lecture, 
and  our  talks  ?  " 

"Oh,  theory  doesn't  go  for  much.  May  I  call 
shortly  ?  " 

"  If  you  will  be  so  good." 

"  She's  very  young,  I  think  ?  " 

"  Not  much  more  than  one-and-twenty.  I  have 
known  her  for  about  three  years." 

There  was  a  short  silence,  then  Mrs.  Wade  said  with 
some  abruptness: 

"  I  think  of  leaving  Polterham  before  long.  It  was 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hornibrook  who  decided  me  to  come 
here,  and  now  that  they  are  gone  I  feel  as  if  I  too 
had  better  stir.  I  want  books  that  are  out  of  my 
reach." 

"That  will  be  a  loss  to  us,  Mrs.  Wade.  Society  in 
Polterham  has  its  limitations  " 

"  I'm  aware  of  it.  But  you,  of  course,  will  have  a 
home  in  London  as  well  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes — if  I  get  sent  to  Parliament." 

"  I  suppose  we  shall  meet  there  some  day." 

Her  voice  grew  careless  and  dreamy.  She  folded  her 
hands  upon  her  lap,  and  assumed  a  look  which  seemed  to 
Denzil  a  hint  that  he  might  now  depart.     He  stood  uj). 

"  So  you  are  going  to  skate  ? "  murmured  Mrs. 
Wade.  "I  won't  keep  you.  Thank  you  very  much 
for  looking  in." 

Denzil  tried  once  more  to  read  her  countenance,  and 
went  away  with  a  puzzled  feeling.  He  could  not  con- 
jecture the  meaning  of  her  changed  tone. 


XIII 

Last  November  liad  turned  the  scale  in  the  Polterhani 
Town  Council.  It  happened  that  the  retiring  members 
were  all  Conservatives,  with  the  exception  of  Mr.  Chown, 
who  alone  of  them  obtained  re-election,  the  others 
giving  place  to  men  of  the  Progressive  party.  Mr. 
Mumbray  bade  farewell  to  his  greatness.  The  new 
Mayor  was  a  Liberal.  As  returning-officer,  he  would 
preside  over  the  coming  political  contest.  The  Tories 
gloomed  at  each  other,  and  whispered  of  evil  omens. 

For  many  years  Mr.  Mumbray  had  looked  to  the 
Mayoralty  as  the  limit  of  his  ambition.  He  now  began 
to  entertain  larger  projects,  encouraged  thereto  by  the 
dissensions  of  Conservative  Polterham,  and  the  prompt- 
ings of  men  who  were  hoping  to  follow  him  up  the 
civic  ladder.  He  joined  with  those  who  murmured 
against  the  obstinacy  of  old  Mr.  Welwyn-Baker.  To 
support  such  a  candidate  would  be  party  suicide.  Even 
Welwyn-Baker  junior  was  preferable;  but  why  not 
recognize  that  the  old  name  had  lost  its  prestige,  and 
select  a  representative  of  enlightened  Conservatism, 
who  could  really  make  a  stand  against  Quarrier  and 
his  rampant  Radicals  ?  Mr.  Mumbray  saw  no  reason 
why  he  himself  should  not  invite  the  confidence  of  the 
burgesses. 

In  a  moment  of  domestic  truce  the  ex-Mayor  com- 


134  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

municated  this  thought  to  his  wife,  and  Mrs.  Mumbray 
gave  ready  ear.  Like  the  ladies  of  Polterham  in 
general,  she  had  not  the  faintest  understanding  of 
political  principles;  to  her,  the  distinction  between 
parties  was  the  difference  between  bits  of  blue  and 
yellow  ribbon,  nothing  more.  But  the  social  advantages 
accruing  to  the  wife  of  an  M.P.  impressed  her  very 
strongly  indeed.  For  such  an  end  she  was  willing  to 
make  sacrifices,  and  the  first  of  these  declared  itself  in 
an  abandonment  of  her  opposition  to  Mr.  Eustace 
Glazzard.  Her  husband  pointed  out  to  her  that  a 
connection  with  the  family  so  long  established  at  High- 
mead  would  be  of  distinct  value.  William  Glazzard 
nominally  stood  on  the  Liberal  side,  but  he  was  very  luke- 
warm, and  allowed  to  be  seen  that  his  political  action 
was  much  swayed  by  personal  considerations.  Eustace 
made  no  pretence  of  Liberal  leaning;  though  a  friend 
of  the  Radical  candidate  (so  Quarrier  was  already 
designated  by  his  opponents),  he  joked  at  popular 
enthusiasm,  and  could  only  be  described  as  an  indepen- 
dent aristocrat.  Money,  it  appeared,  he  had  none;  and 
his  brother,  it  was  suspected,  kept  up  only  a  show  of 
the  ancestral  position.  Nevertheless,  their  names  had 
weight  in  the  borough. 

Eustace  spent  Christmas  at  Higlimead,  and  made 
frequent  calls  at  the  house  of  the  ex-Mayor.  On  one 
of  the  occasions  it  happened  that  the  ladies  were  from 
home,  but  Mr.  Mumbray,  on  the  point  of  going  out, 
begged  Glazzard  to  come  and  have  a  word  with  him  in 
his  sanctum.  After  mnch  roundabout  talk,  character- 
istically pompous,  he  put  the  question  whether  Mr. 
Glazzard,  as  a  friend  of  Mr.  Denzil  Quarrier,  wonld 
"  take  it  ill "'  if  he,  Mr.  Mumbray,  accepted  an  invita- 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  135 

tion  to  come  forward  as  the  candidate  of  the  Conserva- 
tive party. 

"  I  hope  you  know  me  better,"  Glazzard  replied.  "  I 
have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  politics." 

The  ex-Mayor  smiled  thoughtfully,  and  went  on  to 
explain,  "  in  strictest  confidence,"  that  there  was  a  pro- 
spect of  that  contingency  befalling. 

"Of  course  I  couldn't  hope  for  Mr.  William's 
support." 

He  paused  on  a  note  of  magnanimous  renunciation. 
"Oh,   I   don't   know,"   said    Glazzard,    abstractedly. 
"My  brother   is   hardly   to    be    called   a   Radical.      I 
couldn't  answer  for  the  line  he  will  take." 
"  Indeed  ?     That  is  very  interesting.     Ha !  " 
Silence  fell  between  them. 

"I'm  sure,"  remarked  Mr.  Mumbray,  at  length,  "that 
my  wife  and  daughter  will  be  very  sorry  to  have  missed 
your  call.  Undoubtedly  you  can  count  on  their  being 
at  home  to-morrow." 

The  prediction  was  fulfilled,  and  before  leaving  the 
house  Glazzard  made  Serena  a  proposal  of  marriage. 
That  morning  there  had  occurred  a  quarrel  of  more 
than  usual  bitterness  between  mother  and  daughter. 
Serena  was  sick  of  her  life  at  home,  and  felt  a  longing, 
at  any  cost,  for  escape  to  a  sphere  of  independence. 
The  expected  offer  from  Glazzard  came  just  at  the  right 
moment;  she  accepted  it,  and  consented  that  the  mar- 
riage should  be  very  soon. 

But  a  few  hours  of  reflection  filled  her  with  grave 
misgivings.  She  was  not  in  love  with  Glazzard;  per- 
sonally, he  had  never  charmed  her,  and  in  the  progress 
of  their  acquaintance  she  had  discovered  many  points  of 
his  character  which  excited  her  alarm.     Serena,  after 


136  DENZIL  QITARRIER 

all,  was  but  a  half-educated  country  girl;  even  in  tlie 
whirlwind  of  rebellious  moments  she  felt  afraid  of  the 
words  that  came  to  her  lips.  The  impulses  towards 
emancipation  Avhich  so  grievously  perturbed  her  were 
unjustified  by  her  conscience;  at  heart,  she  believed 
with  Ivy  Glazzard  that  woman  was  a  praying  and  sub- 
ordinate creature;  in  her  bedroom  she  recounted  the 
day's  sins  of  thought  and  speech,  and  wept  out  her 
desire  for  "  conversion,"  for  the  life  of  humble  faith. 
Accepting  such  a  husband  as  Eustace,  she  had  committed 
not  only  an  error,  but  a  sin.  The  man  was  without 
religion,  and  sometimes  made  himself  guilty  of 
hypocrisy;  of  this  she  felt  a  miserable  assurance.  How 
could  she  hope  to  be  happy  with  him  ?  AYhat  had 
interested  her  in  him  Avas  that  air  of  culture  and  refine- 
ment so  conspicuously  lacked  by  the  men  who  had 
hitherto  approached  her.  He  had  seemed  to  her  the 
first  gentleman  who  sought  her  favour.  To  countenance 
him,  moreover,  was  to  defy  her  mother's  petty  rule. 
But,  no,  she  did  not  love  him — did  not  like  him. 

Yet  to  retract  her  jjromise  she  was  ashamed.  Only 
girls  of  low  social  position  played  fast  and  loose  in  that 
way.     She  went  through  a  night  of  misery. 

On  the  morrow  her  betrothed,  of  course,  came  to  see 
her.  Woman-like,  she  had  taken  refuge  in  a  resolve  of 
postponement;  the  marriage  must  be  sooner  or  later, 
but  it  was  in  her  power  to  put  it  off.  And,  with  show 
of  regretful  prudence,  she  made  known  this  change  in 
her  mind. 

"  I  hardly  knew  what  I  was  sayi^ig.  I  ought  to  have 
remembered  that  our  acquaintance  has  been  very  short." 

"  Yet  long  enough  to  enable  me  to  win  your 
promise,"  urged  Glazzard. 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  137 

"  Yes,  I  have  promised.  It's  ouly  that  we  cannot 
be  married  so  very  soon." 

"  I  must,  of  course,  yiekl,"  he  replied,  gracefully, 
kissing  her  hand.  "  Decision  as  to  the  time  shall  rest 
entirely  Avith  you." 

"  Thank  you — that  is  very  kind." 

He  went  away  in  a  mood  of  extreme  discontent. 
Was  this  little  simpleton  going  to  play  with  him  ? 
There  were  solid  reasons  of  more  than  one  kind  wliy 
the  marriage  should  not  be  long  delayed.  It  would  be 
litest  if  he  returned  to  London  and  communicated  with 
her  by  letter.  He  could  write  eloquently,  and  to  let 
her  think  of  him  as  in  the  midst  of  gay  society  might 
not  be  amiss. 

Shortly  after  Quarrier's  arrival  at  Polterham,  he  was 
back  again.  Daily  he  had  repented  his  engagement, 
yet  as  often  had  congratulated  himself  on  the  windfall 
thus  assured  to  him.  Before  going  to  the  Mumbrays, 
he  called  upon  Mrs.  Quarrier,  wliom,  as  it  chanced,  he 
found  alone.  To  Lilian  his  appearance  was  a  shock, 
for  in  the  contentment  of  the  past  week  she  had 
practically  forgotten  the  existence  of  this  man  who 
shared  her  secret.     She  could  not  look  him  in  the  face. 

Glazzard  could  be  trusted  in  points  of  tact.  He 
entered  with  a  bright  face,  and  the  greetings  of  an  old 
friend,  then  at  once  began  to  speak  of  his  own  affairs. 

"Have  you  heard  that  I  am  going  to  be  married  ?  " 

"Denzil  told  me  when  he  received  your  letter." 

"  I  am  afraid  Miss  Mumbray  will  hardly  belong  to 
your  circle,  but  as  Mrs.  Glazzard — that  will  be  a  different 
thing.  You  won't  forbid  me  to  come  here  because  of 
this  alliance  ?  " 

Lilian  showed  surprise  and  perplexity. 


138  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

"  I  mean,  because  I  am  engaged  to  the  daughter  of  a 
Tory." 

"  Oh,  what  difference  could  that  possibly  make  ?  " 

"  None^  I  hope.  You  know  that  I  am  not  very 
zealous  as  a  party-man." 

In  this  his  second  conversation  with  Lilian,  Glazzard 
analysed  more  completely  the  charm  which  she  had 
before  exercised  upon  him.  He  was  thoroughly  aware 
of  the  trials  her  nature  was  enduring,  and  his  power  of 
sympathetic  insight  enabled  him  to  read  upon  her 
countenance,  in  her  tones,  precisely  what  Lilian 
imagined  she  could  conceal.  Amid  surroundings  such 
as  those  of  the  newly  furnished  house,  she  seemed  to 
him  a  priceless  gem  in  a  gaudy  setting;  he  felt  (and 
with  justice)  that  the  little  drawing-room  at  Clapham, 
which  spoke  in  so  many  details  of  her  own  taste,  was  a 
much  more  suitable  home  for  her.  What  could  be  said 
of  the  man  who  had  thus  transferred  her,  all  (or 
chiefly)  for  the  sake  of  getting  elected  to  Parliament  ? 
Quarrier  had  no  true  appreciation  of  the  woman  with 
whose  life  and  happiness  he  was  entrusted.  He  was 
devoted  to  her,  no  doubt,  but  with  a  devotion  not  much 
more  clairvoyant  than  would  have  distinguished  one  of 
his  favourite  Vikings. 

Glazzard,  whilst  liking  Denzil,  had  never  held  him  in 
much  esteem.  Of  late,  his  feelings  had  become  strongly 
tinged  with  contemjit.  And  now,  with  the  contempt 
there  blended  a  strain  of  jealousy. 

True  that  he  himself  had  caught  eagerly  at  the  hope 
of  entering  Parliament;  but  it  was  the  impulse  of  a  man 
who  knew  his  life  to  be  falling  into  ruin,  who  welcomed 
any  suggestion  that  would  save  him  from  final  and  fatal 
apathy — of  a  man   whose  existence  had   always  been 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  139 

loveless — who,  with  passionate  ideals,  had  never  known 
anything  but  a  venal  embrace.  In  Quarrier's  position, 
with  abounding  resources,  with  the  love  of  such  a 
woman  as  this,  what  would  he  not  have  made  of  life  ? 
Would  it  ever  have  occurred  to  Mm  to  wear  a  mask  of 
vulgar  deceit,  to  condemn  his  exquisite  companion  to  a 
hateful  martyrdom,  that  he  might  attain  the  dizzy 
height  of  M.  P.-ship  for  Polterham  ? 

He  compassionated  Lilian,  and  at  the  same  time  he 
was  angry  with  her.  He  looked  upon  her  beauty,  her 
gentle  spirit,  with  tenderness,  and  therewithal  he  half 
hoped  that  she  might  some  day  repent  of  yielding  to 
Quarrier's  vulgar  ambition. 

"Have  you  made  many  acquaintances  ?"  he  asked. 

"  A  good  many.  Some,  very  pleasant  people ;  others 
— not  so  interesting." 

"  Polterham  society  will  not  absorb  you,  I  think." 

"  I  hope  to  have  a  good  deal  of  quiet  time.  But 
Denzil  wishes  me  to  study  more  from  life  than  from 
books.  Just  now.  I  must  understand  all  the  subjects 
that  interest  him." 

"  Yes — the  exact  position,  as  a  force  in  politics,  of  the 
licensed  victuallers;  the  demands  of  the  newly  enfran- 
chised classes — that  kind  of  thing." 

He  seemed  to  be  Jesting,  and  she  laughed  good- 
humouredly. 

"  Those  things  are  very  important,  Mr.  Glazzard." 

"Infinitely!" 

He  did  not  stay  long,  and  ujion  his  departure  Lilian 
gave  a  sigh  of  relief. 

The  next  day  he  was  to  lunch  with  the  Mumbrays. 
He  went  about  twelve  o'clock,  to  spend  an  hour  with 
Serena.     His  welcome  was  not  ardent,  and  he  felt  the 


140  DE^'ZIL   QUARRIER 

oppression  of  a  languor  lie  hardly  tried  to  disguise. 
Yet  in  truth  his  cause  had  henefited  whilst  he  was 
away.  The  eloquent  letters  did  not  fail  of  their  effect; 
Serena  had  again  sighed  under  domestic  tyranny,  had 
thought  with  longing  of  a  life  in  London,  and  was 
once  more  swayed  by  her  emotions  towards  an  early 
marriage. 

In  dearth  of  matter  for  conversation  (Glazzard  sitting 
taciturn),  she  spoke  of  an  event  which  had  occupied 
Polterham  for  the  last  day  or  two.  Some  local  genius 
had  conceived  the  idea  of  wrecking  an  express  train, 
and  to  that  end  had  broken  a  portion  of  the  line. 

"  What     frightful     wickedness  ! "     she     exclaimed. 
"  What  motive  can  there  have  been,  do  you  think  ? " 
"  Probably  none,  in  the  sense  you  mean." 
"  Yes — such  a  man  must  be  mad." 
"I   don't  think    that,"  said   Glazzard,  meditatively. 
"  I  can  understand  his  doing  it  with  no  reason  at  all 
but  the  wish  to  see  what  would  happen.     No  doubt  he 
would  have  been  standing  somewhere  in  sight." 
"You  can  understand  that  ?" 

"  Very  well  indeed,"  he  answered,  in  the  same  half- 
absent  way.  "Power  of  all  kinds  is  a  teAiptation  to 
men.  A  certain  kind  of  man — not  necessarily  cruel — 
would  be  fascinated  with  the  thought  of  bringing  about 
such  a  terrific  end  by  such  slight  means." 

"Not  necessarily  cruel?  Oh,  I  can't  follow  you  at 
all.     You  are  not  serious." 

"I  have  shocked  you."  He  saw  that  he  had  really 
done  so,  and  felt  that  it  was  imprudent.  His  tact  sug- 
gested a  use  for  the  situation.  "Serena,  why  should 
you  speak  so  conventionally  ?  You  are  not  really  con- 
ventional in  mind.     You  have  thoughts  and  emotions 


DEXZIL   QUARRIER  141 

iiifiuitely  above  those  of  average  girls.  Do  recognize 
your  own  superiority.  I  si^oke  in  a  speculative  Avay. 
One  may  speculate  about  anything  and  everything — if 
one  has  the  brains.  You  certainly  are  not  made  to  go 
through  life  with  veiled  eyes  and- a  tongue  tuned  to 
the  common  jahrases.  Do  yourself  justice,  dear  girl. 
However  other  people  regard  you,  /  from  the  first  have 
seen  what  it  was  in  you  to  become." 

It  was  adroit  flattery;  Serena  reddened,  averted  her 
face,  smiled  a  little,  and  kejit  silence. 

That  day  he  did  not  follow  up  his  advantage.  But 
on  taking  leave-  of  Serena  early  in  the  afternoon,  he 
looked  into  her  eyes  with  expressive  steadiness,  and 
again  she  blushed. 

A  little  later,  several  ladies  were  gathered  in  the 
drawing-room.  On  Thursdays  Mrs.  Mumbray 
received  her  friends;  sat  as  an  embodiment  of  the 
domestic  virtues  and  graces.  To-day  the  talk  was 
principally  on  that  recent  addition  to  Polterham 
society,  Mrs.  Denzil  Quarrier. 

"  I  haven't  seen  her  yet,"  said  Mrs.  Mumbray,  with 
her  air  of  superiority.  "They  say  she  is  pretty  but 
rather  childish." 

"  But  what  is  this  mystery  about  the  marriage  ? " 
inquired  a  lady  who  had  just  entered,  and  who  threw 
herself  upon  the  subject  with  eagerness.  (It  was  Mrs. 
Roach,  the  wife  of  an  alderman.)  "Why  was  it 
abroad  ?     She  is  English,  I  think  ?  " 

"  Oh  no  ! "  put  in  Mrs.  Tenterden,  a  large  and  very 
positive  person.  "  She  is  a  Dane — like  the  Princess  of 
Wales.  I  have  seen  her.  I  recognized  the  cast  of 
features  at  once." 

An  outcry  from  three  ladies  followed.     They  knew 


142  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

Mrs.  Quarrier  was  English.  They  had  seen  her  skating 
at  Bale  Water.  One  of  them  had  heard  her  sj^eak — it 
was  pure  English. 

"I  thought  every  one  knew/'  returned  Mrs. 
Tenterden,  with  stately  deliberation,  "that  the  Danes 
have  a  special  gift  for  languages.  The  Princess  of 
Wales" 

"  But,  indeed/'  urged  the  hostess,  "  she  is  of  English 
birth.  We  know  it  from  Mr.  Eustace  Glazzard,  who  is 
one  of  their  friends." 

"  Then  ivhy  were  they  married  abroad  ? "  came  in 
Mrs.  Eoach's  shrill  voice.  "  Can  English  people  be 
legitimately  married  abroad  ?  I  always  understood  that 
the  ceremony  had  to  be  repeated  in  England." 

"  It  was  at  Paris,"  said  Mrs.  Walker,  the  depressed 
widow  of  a  bankrupt  corn-merchant.  "  There  is  an 
English  church  there,  I  have  heard." 

The  others,  inclined  to  be  contemptuous  of  this 
authority,  regarded  each  other  with  doubt. 

"  Still,"  broke  out  Mrs.  Roach  again,  ^'wliy  was  it  at 
Paris  ?  No  one  seems  to  have  the  slightest  idea.  It  is 
really  very  strange  ! " 

Mrs.  Mumbray  vouchsafed  further  information. 

"  I  understood  that  she  came  from  Stockholm." 

"  Didn't  I  say  she  came  from  Denmark  ? "  inter- 
rupted Mrs.  Tenterden,  triumphantly. 

There  was  a  pause  of  uncertainty  broken  by  Serena 
Mumbray's  quiet  voice. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Tenterden,  Stockholm  is  not  in  Den- 
mark, but  in  Sweden.  And  we  are  told  that  Mrs. 
Quarrier  was  an  English  governess  there." 

"Ah  !  a  governess  1 "  cried  two  or  three  voices. 

"To    tell    the    truth,"  said    Mrs.    Mumbray,    more 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  143 

(liguified  than  ever  after  her  vindication,  "it  is 
probable  that  she  belongs  to  some  very  poor  family.  I 
should  be  sorry  to  think  any  worse  of  her  for  tit  at,  but 
it  would  explain  the  private  marriage." 

"So  you  think  people  can  be  married  legally  in 
Paris  ?  "  persisted  the  alderman's  wife,  whose  banns  had 
been  ijroclaimed  in  hearing  of  orthodox  Polterham 
about  a  year  ago. 

"  Of  course  they  can,"  fell  from  Serena. 

Lilian's  age,  personal  appearance,  dress,  behaviour, 
underwent  discussion  at  great  length. 

"  What  church  do  they  go  to  ?  "  inquired  some  one, 
and  the  question  excited  general  interest. 

"They  were  at  St.  Luke's  last  Sunday,"  Mrs. 
Walker  was  able  to  declare,  though  her  wonted  timidity 
again  threw  some  suspicion  on  the  statement. 

"  St.  Luke's  !  Why  St.  Luke's  ?  "  cried  other  voices. 
"  It  isn't  their  jDarish,  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  think,"  suggested  the  widow,  "  it  may  be  because 
the  Liversedges  go  to  St.  Luke's.  Mrs.  Liversedge 
is  " 

Her  needless  information  was  cut  short  by  a  remark 
from  Mrs.  Tenterden. 

"  I  could  never  listen  Sunday  after  Sunday  to  Mr. 
Garraway.  I  think  him  excessively  tedious.  And  his 
voice  is  so  very  trying." 

The  incumbent  of  St.  Luke's  offered  a  brief  diversion 
from  the  main  theme.  A  mention  of  the  Rev. 
Scatchard  Vialls  threatened  to  lead  them  too  far,  and 
Mrs.  Roach  interposed  with  firmness. 

"  I  still  think  it  a  very  singular  thing  that  they  went 
abroad  to  be  married." 

"  But  they  didn't  go  abroad,  my  dear,"  objected  the 


144  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

hostess.  "That  is  to  say,  one  of  them  was  already 
abroad." 

"  Indeed  !  The  Avhole  thing  seems  very  complicated. 
I  think  it  needs  explanation.  I  shouldn't  feel  justified 
in  calling  upon  Mrs.  Quarrier  until" 

Her  voice  was  overpowered  by  that  of  Mrs.  Tenterden, 
who  demanded  loudly: 

"  Is  it  true  that  she  has  already  become  very  intimate 
with  that jmr son  Mrs.  Wade?" 

"  Oh,  I  do  hope  not  !  "  exclaimed  several  ladies. 

Here  was  an  inexhaustible  topic.  It  occupied  more 
than  an  hour,  until  the  last  tea-cup  had  been  laid  aside 
and  the  more  discreet  callers  were  already  on  their  way 
home. 


XIV 

Theee  needed  only  two  or  three  days  of  life  at  Polter- 
ham  to  allay  the  uneasiness  with  which,  for  all  his 
show  of  equanimity,  Denzil  entered  upon  so  perilous  a 
career.  By  the  end  of  January  he  had  practically 
forgotten  that  his  position  was  in  any  respect  insecure. 
The  risk  of  betraying  himself  in  an  unguarded  moment 
was  diminished  by  the  mental  habit  established  during 
eighteen  months  of  secrecy  in  London.  Lilian's  name 
was  seldom  upon  his  lips,  and  any  inquiry  concerning 
her  at  once  awakened  his  caution.  Between  themselves 
they  never  spoke  of  the  jjast. 

Long  ago  he  had  silenced  every  conscientious  scruple 
regarding  the  relation  between  Lilian  and  himself; 
and  as  for  the  man  Northway,  if  ever  he  thought  of  him 
at  all,  it  was  with  impatient  contempt.  That  he  was 
deceiving  his  Polterham  acquaintances,  and  in  a  way 
which  they  would  deem  unpardonable  outrage,  no  longer 
caused  him  the  least  compunction.  Conventional  wrong- 
doing, he  had  satisfied  himself,  was  not  wrong-doing  at 
all,  unless  discovered.  He  injured  no  one.  The  society 
of  such  a  person  as  Lilian  could  be  nothing  but  an 
advantage  to  man,  Avoman,  and  child.  Only  the  sub- 
limation of  imbecile  prejudice  would  maintain  that  she 
was  an  unfit  companion  for  the  purest  creature  living. 
He  had  even  ceased  to  smile  at  the  success  of  his  strata- 


146  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

gem.  It  was  over  and  done  with;  their  social  standing 
was  unassailable. 

Anxious  to  comi^lete  his  book  on  the  Vikings,  he 
worked  at  it  for  several  hours  each  morning;  it  would 
be  off  his  hands  some  time  in  February,  and  the  spring 
pixblishing  season  should  send  it  forth  to  the  world. 
The  rest  of  his  leisure  Avas  given  to  politics.  Chests  of 
volumes  were  arriving  from  London,  and  his  library 
shelves  began  to  make  a  respectable  appearance;  as  a 
matter  of  principle,  he  bought  largely  from  the  local 
bookseller,  who  rejoiced  at  the  sudden  fillip  to  his  stag- 
nant trade,  and  went  about  declaring  that  Mr.  Denzil 
Quarrier  was  evidently  the  man  for  the  borough. 

He  fell  upon  history,  economics,  social  speculation, 
with  characteristic  vigour.  If  he  got  into  the  House  of 
Commons,  those  worthies  should  sj)eedily  be  aware  of 
his  existence  amon^  them.  It  was  one  of  his  favourite 
boasts  that  whatever  subject  he  chose  to  tackle,  he 
could  master.  No  smattering  for  him;  a  solid  founda- 
tion of  knowledge,  such  as  would  ensure  authority  to 
his  lightest  utterances. 

In  the  meantime,  he  began  to  perceive  that  Lilian 
was  not  likely  to  form  many  acquaintances  in  the  town. 
With  the  Liversedges  she  stood  on  excellent  terms,  and 
one  or  two  families  closely  connected  with  them  gave 
her  a  welcome  from  which  she  did  not  shrink.  But  she 
had  no  gift  of  social  versatility;  it  cost  her  painful 
efforts  to  converse  about  bazaars  and  curates  and 
fashions  and  babies  with  the  average  Polterham  matron; 
she  felt  that  most  of  the  women  who  came  to  see  her 
went  away  with  distasteful  impressions,  and  that  they 
were  anything  but  cordial  when  she  returned  their  call. 
A  life  of  solitude  and  study  was  the  worst  possible 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  147 

preparation  for  duties  sncli  as  were  now  laid  upon 
her. 

"You  are  dissatisfied  with  me,"  she  said  to  Denzil, 
as  they  returned  from  spending  the  evening  with  some 
empty  but  influential  peojjle  who  had  made  her 
exceedingly  uncomfortable. 

"  Bissatisfied  ?  On  the  contrary,  I  am  very  proud  of 
you.  It  does  one  good  to  contrast  one's  wife  with 
women  such  as  those." 

"I  tried  to  talk;  but  I'm  so  ignorant  of  everything 
they  care  about.  I  shall  do  better  when  I  know  more 
of  the  people  they  refer  to." 

"  Chattering  apes  !  Malicious  idiots  !  Heaven  for- 
bid that  you  should  ever  take  a  sincere  part  in  their 
gabble !  That  lot  are  about  the  worst  we  shall  have  to 
deal  with.  Decent  simpletons  you  can  get  along  with 
very  well." 

"  How  ought  I  to  speak  of  Mrs.  Wade  ?  When 
people  tell  downright  falsehoods  about  her,  may  I 
contradict  ?  " 

"It's  a  confoundedly  difficult  matter,  that.  I  half 
wish  Mrs.  Wade  would  hasten  her  departure.  Did  she 
say  anything  about  it  when  you  saw  her  the  other 
day?" 

"  Nothing  whatever." 

It  appeared  that  the  widow  wished  to  make  a  friend 
of  Lilian.  She  had  called  several  times,  and  on  each 
occasion  behaved  so  charmingly  that  Lilian  was  very 
ready  to  meet  her  advances.  Though  on  intellectual 
and  personal  grounds  he  could  feel  no  objection  to  such 
an  intimacy,  Denzil  began  to  fear  that  it  might  affect 
his  popularity  with  some  voters  who  would  take  the 
Liberal  side  if  it  did  not  commit  them  to  social  heresies. 


148 


DENZIL  QUARRIER 


This  class  is  a  very  large  one  throughout  England. 
Mrs.  Wade  had  never  given  occasion  of  grave  scandal; 
she  was  even  seen,  with  moderate  regularity,  at  one  or 
other  of  the  churches;  but  many  of  the  anti-Tory 
bourgeois  suspected  her  of  sympathy  with  views  so  very 
"advanced"  as  to  be  socially  dangerous.  Already  it 
had  become  known  that  she  was  on  good  terms  .with 
Quarrier  and  his  wife.  It  was  rumoured  that  Quarrier 
would  reconsider  the  position  he  had  publicly  assumed, 
and  stand  forth  as  an  advocate  of  Female  Suffrage. 
For  such  extremes  Polterham  was  not  prepared. 

"Mrs.  Wade  asks  me  to  go  and  have  tea  with  her 
to-morrow,"  Lilian  announced  one  morning,  showing  a 
note.     "  Shall  I,  or  not  ?  " 

"  You  would  like  to  ?  " 

"  Not  if  you  think  it  unwise." 

"Hang  it! — we  can't  be  slaves.  Go  by  all  means, 
and  refresh  your  mind." 

At  three  o'clock  on  the  day  of  invitation  Lilian 
alighted  from  her  brougham  at  Pear-tree  Cottage.  It 
was  close  upon  the  end  of  February;  the  declining  sun 
shot  a  pleasant  glow  across  the  landscape,  and  in  the  air 
reigned  a  perfect  stillness.  Mrs.  Wade  threw  open  the 
door  herself  with  laughing  welcome. 

"  Let  us  have  half-an-hour's  walk,  shall  we  ?  It's  so 
dry  and  warm." 

"  I  should  enjoy  it,"  Lilian  answered,  readily. 

"  Then  allow  me  two  minutes  for  bonnet  and  cloak." 

She  was  scarcely  longer.  They  went  by  the  hedge- 
side  path  which  led  towards  Bale  Water.  To-day  the 
papers  were  full  of  exciting  news.  Sir  Stafford  North- 
cote  had  brought  forward  his  resolution  for  making 
short   work   of   obstructive   Members,  and   Radicalism 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  149 

stood  uudecided.  Mrs.  Wade  talked  of  these  things  in 
the  liveliest  strain,  Lilian  res|)onding  with  a  light- 
hearted  freedom  seldom  possible  to  her. 

"  You  skated  here,  didn't  you  ?  "  said  her  companion, 
as  they  drew  near  to  the  large  j)ond. 

"Yes;  a  day  or  two  after  we  came.  How  different  it 
looks  now/' 

They  stood  on  the  bank  where  it  rose  to  a  consider- 
able height  above  the  water. 

"The  rails  have  spoilt  this  spot,"  said  Mrs,  Wade. 
"  They  were  only  put  wp  last  autumn,  after  an  accident. 
I  wonder  it  was  never  found  necessary  before.  Some 
children  were  gathering  blackberries  from  the  bramble 
there,  and  one  of  them  reached  too  far  forward,  and 
over  she  went!  I  witnessed  it  from  the  other  side, 
where  I  happened  to  be  walking.  A  great  splash,  and 
then  a  chorus  of  shrieks  from  the  companions.  I  began 
to  run  forward,  though  of  course  I  could  have  done 
nothing  whatever;  when  all  at  once  I  saw  a  sjilendid 
sight.  A  man  who  was  standing  not  far  off  ran  to  the 
edge  and  plunged  in — a  magnificent  'header'  !  He 
had  only  thrown  away  his  hat  and  coat.  They  say  it's 
very  deep  just  here.  He  disappeared  completely,  and 
then  in  a  few  seconds  I  saw  tluit  he  had  hold  of  the 
child.  He  brought  her  out  where  the  bank  slopes  yon- 
der— no  harm  done.  I  can't  tell  you  how  I  enjoyed 
that  scene  I     It  made  me  cry  with  delight." 

As  usual,  when  deeply  moved,  Lilian  stood  in  a  re- 
verie, her  eyes  wide,  her  lips  tremulous.  Then  she 
stepped  forward,  and,  with  her  haiul  resting  upon  the 
wooden  rail,  looked  down.  There  was  no  perceptible 
movement  in  the  water;  it  showed  a  dark  greenish  sur- 
face, smooth  to  the  edge,  without  a  trace  of  weed. 


150  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  How  I  envy  that  man  liis  conrage ! " 
"  His  power,  rather,"  suggested  Mrs.  Wade.     "  If  we 
could  swim  well,  and  had  no  foolish  petticoats,  we  should 
jump  in  just  as  readily.     It  was  the  power  over  circum- 
stances that  I  admired  and  envied." 

Lilian  smiled  thoughtfully. 

"  I  suppose  that  is  what  most  attracts  us  in  men  ?  " 

"And  makes  us  feel  our  own  dependence.  I  can't 
say  I  likfe  that  feeling — do  you  ?  " 

She  seemed  to  wait  for  an  answer. 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  in  the  order  of  nature,"  replied  Lilian 
at  length  with  a  laugh. 

"  Very  likely.  But  I  am  not  content  with  it  on  that 
account.  I  know  of  a  thousand  things  quite  in  the 
order  of  nature  which  revolt  me.  I  very  often  think  of 
nature  as  an  evil  force,  at  war  with  the  good  principle 
of  which  we  are  conscious  in  our  souls." 

"But,"  Lilian  faltered,  "is  your  ideal  an  absolute 
independence  ?  " 

Mrs.  Wade  looked  far  across  the  water,  and  answered, 
"  Yes,  absolute !  " 

"Then  you— I  don't  quite  know  what  would  result 
from  that." 

"Nor  I,"  returned  the  other,  laughing.  "That 
doesn't  affect  my  ideal.  You  have  heard,  of  course,  of 
that  lecture  your  husband  gave  at  the  Institute  before — 
before  your  marriage  ?  " 

"Yes;  I  wish  I  could  have  heard  it." 

"You  would  have  sympathized  with  every  word,  I 
am  sure.  Mr.  Quarrier  is  one  of  the  strong  men  who 
find  satisfaction  in  women's  weakness." 

It  was  said  with  perfect  good-humour,  with  a  certain 
indulgent  kindness — a  tone  Mrs.  Wade  had  used  from 


DENZIL  QTJABRIER  151 

the  first  in  talking  with  Lilian.  A  manner  of  affection- 
ate playfulness,  occasionally  of  caressing  protection, 
distinguished  her  in  this  intercourse;  quite  unlike  that 
by  which  she  was  known  to  people  in  general.  Lilian 
did  not  dislike  it,  rather  was  drawn  by  it  into  a  mood 
of  grateful  confidence. 

"  I  don't  think  '  weakness '  expresses  it,"  she  objected. 
"  He  likes  women  to  be  subordinate,  no  doubt  of  that. 
His  idea  is  that " 

"  I  know,  I  know ! "  Mrs.  "Wade  turned  away  with  a 
smile  her  comjianion  did  not  observe.  "'  Let  us  walk 
back  again;  it  grows  chilly.  A  beautiful  sunset,  if 
clouds  don't  gather.  Perhaps  it  surprises  you  that  I 
care  for  such  sentimental  things  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  understand  you  better." 

"Frankly — do  you  think  me  what  the  French  call 
hommasse  f    Just  a  little  ?  " 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,  Mrs.  Wade,"  Lilian  replied, 
with  courage.     "  You  are  a  very  womanly  woman." 

The  bright,  hard  eyes  darted  a  quick  glance  at  her. 

"  Really  ?    That  is  how  I  strike  you  ?  " 

"It  is,  indeed." 

"  How  I  like  your  way  of  speaking,"  said  the  other, 
after  a  moment's  pause.  "  I  mean,  your  voice — accent. 
Has  it  anything  to  do  with  the  long  time  you  have 
spent  abroad,  I  wonder  ?  " 

Lilian  smiled  and  was  embarrassed. 

"  You  are  certainly  not  a  Londoner  ?  " 

"  Oh  no !     I  was  born  in  the  west  of  England." 

"And  I  at  Newcastle.  As  a  child  I  had  a  strong 
northern  accent;  you  don't  notice  anything  of  it  now? 
Oh,  I  have  been  about  so  much.  My  husband  Avas  in 
the  Army.     That  is  the  first  time  I  have  mentioned 


153 


DENZIL  QUARRIER 


him  to  3^ou,  and  it  will  be  the  last,  however  long  we 
know  each  other." 

Lilian  kept  her  eyes  on  the  ground.  The  widow 
glanced  off  to  a  totally  different  subject,  which  occupied 
them  the  rest  of  the  way  back  to  the  cottage. 

Daylight  lasted  until  they  had  finished  tea,  then  a 
lamp  was  brought  in  and  the  red  blind  drawn  down. 
Quarrier  had  gone  to  spend  the  day  at  a  neighbouring 
town,  and  would  not  be  l)ack  before  late  in  the  evening, 
so  that  Lilian  had  arranged  to  go  from  Mrs.  Wade's  to 
the  Liversedges'.  Tliey  still  had  a  couple  of  hours' 
talk  to  enjoy;  on  Lilian's  side,  at  all  events,  it  was  un- 
feigned enjoyment.  The  cosy  little  room  put  her  at 
ease.  Its  furniture  was  quite  in  keeping  Avitli  the 
simple  appearance  of  the  house,  but  books  and  pictures 
told  that  no  ordinary  cottager  dwelt  here. 

"  I  have  had  many  an  hour  of  happiness  in  this 
room,"  said  Mrs.  Wade,  as  they  seated  themselves  by 
the  fire.  "  The  best  of  all  between  eleven  at  night  and 
two  in  the  morning.  You  know  the  lines  in  '  Pen- 
seroso.'  Most  men  would  declare  that  a  woman  can't 
possibly  apj)reciate  them;  I  know  better.  I  am  by 
nature  a  student;  the  life  of  society  is  nothing  to  me; 
and,  in  reality,  I  care  very  little  about  politics." 

Smiling,  she  Avatched  the  effect  of  her  words. 

"  You  are  content  with  solitude  ? "  said  Lilian, 
gazing  at  her  with  a  look  of  deep  interest. 

"  Quite.  I  have  no  relatives  who  care  anything 
about  me,  and  only  two  or  three  people  I  call  friends. 
But  I  must  have  more  books,  and  I  shall  be  obliged  to 
go  to  London." 

"Don't  go  just  yet — won't  our  books  be  of  use  to 
you 


?" 


DEXZIL   QUARRIER  153 

"  I  shall  see.     Have  you  read  this  ?  " 

It  was  a  novel  from  Smith's  Library.  Lilian  knew 
it,  and  they  discussed  its  merits.  Mrs.  Wade  mentioned 
a  book  by  the  same  author  which  had  ajipeared  more 
than  a  year  ago. 

"Yes,  I  read  that  when  it  came  out,"  said  Lilian, 
and  began  to  talk  of  it. 

Mrs.  Wade  kept  silence,  then  remarked  carelessly: 

"  You  had  them  in  the  Tauchnitz  series,  I  suj)pose  ?  " 

Had  her  eyes  been  turned  that  way,  she  must  have 
observed  the  strange  look  which  flashed  across  her 
companion's  countenance.  Lilian  seemed  to  draw  in 
her  breath,  though  silently. 

"  Yes — Tauchnitz,"  she  answered. 

Mrs.  Wade  appeared  quite  unconscious  of  anything 
unusual  in  the  tone.     She  was  gazing  at  the  fire. 

"It  isn't  often  I  find  time  for  novels,"  she  said; 
"  for  new  ones,  that  is.  A  few  of  the  old  are  generally 
all  I  need.  Can  you  read  George  Eliot  ?  What  a 
miserably  conventional  soul  that  woman  has  !  " 

"  Conventional  ?     But " 

"  Oh,  I  know  !  But  she  is  British  conventionality 
to  the  core.  I  have  heard  people  say  that  she  hasn't 
the  courage  of  her  opinions;  but  that  is  precisely  what 
she  lias,  and  every  page  of  her  work  declares  it  flagrantly. 
She  might  have  been  a  great  power — she  might  have 
speeded  the  revolution  of  morals — if  the  true  faith  hud 
been  in  her." 

Lilian  was  still  tremulous,  and  she  listened  Avith  an 
intensity  which  gave  her  a  look  of  pain.  She  was 
about  to  speak,  but  Mrs.  Wade  anticipated  her. 

"You  mustn't  trouble  much  about  anything  I  say 
when  it  crosses  your  own  judgment  or  feeling.     There 


154 


DENZIL   QUARRIER 


are  so  few  people  with  whom  I  cau  indulge  myself  in 
free  speech.  I  talk  just  for  the  pleasure  of  it;  don't 
think  I  expect  or  hope  that  you  will  always  go  along 
with  me.  But  you  are  not  afraid  of  thinking — that's 
the  great  thing.  Most  women  are  such  paltry  creatures 
that  they  daren't  look  into  their  own  minds — for  fear 
nature  should  have  put  something  '  improper '  there." 

She  broke  oif  with  laughter,  and,  as  Lilian  kej^t 
silence,  fell  into  thought. 

In  saying  that  she  thought  her  companion  a 
"womanly  woman,"  Lilian  told  the  truth.  Ever 
quick  with  sympathy,  she  felt  a  sadness  in  Mrs. 
Wade's  situation,  which  led  her  to  interpret  all 
her  harsher  peculiarities  as  the  result  of  disap- 
pointment and  loneliness.  Now  that  the  widow  had 
confessed  her  ill-fortune  in  marriage,  Lilian  was 
assured  of  having  Judged  rightly,  and  nursed  her 
sentiment  of  compassion.  Mrs.  Wade  was  still  young; 
impossible  that  she  should  have  accepted  a  fate  which 
forbade  her  the  knowledge  of  woman's  happiness.  But 
how  difficult  for  such  a  one  to  escape  from  this  narrow 
and  misleading  way  !  Her  strong,  highly-trained 
intellect  could  find  no  satisfaction  in  the  society  of 
every-day  people,  yet  she  was  withheld  by  poverty 
from  seeking  her  natural  sphere.  With  Lilian,  to 
understand  a  sorrow  was  to  ask  herself  what  she  could 
do  for  its  assuagement.  A  thought  of  characteristic 
generosity  came  to  her.  Why  should  she  not  (some 
day  or  other,  when  their  friendship  was  mature)  offer 
Mrs.  Wade  the  money,  her  own  property,  which  would 
henceforth  be  lying  idle  ?  There  would  be  practical 
difficulties  in  the  way,  but  surely  they  might  be  over- 
come.    The  idea  brought  a  smile  to  her  face.     Yes; 


DENZIL   QUAKRIER  155 

she  would  think  of  this.  She  would  presently  talk  of  it 
with  Deuzil. 

"  Come  now,"  said  Mrs.  Wade,  rousing  herself  from 
meditation,  "let  us  talk  about  the  Irish  question." 

Lilian  addressed  herself  conscientiously  to  the  subject, 
but  it  did  not  really  interest  her;  she  had  no  personal 
knowledge  of  Irish  hardships,  and  was  v/earied  by  the 
endless  Parliamentary  debate.  Her  thoughts  still 
busied  themselves  with  the  hopeful  j)roject  for  smooth- 
ing Mrs.  Wade's  path  in  life. 

When  the  carriage  came  for  her,  she  took  her  leave 
with  regret,  but  full  of  happy  imaginings.  She  had 
quite  forgotten  the  all  but  self-betrayal  into  which  she 
was  led  during  that  chat  about  novels. 

Two  days  later  Quarrier  was  again  absent  from  home 
on  business,  and  Lilian  spent  the  evening  with  the 
Liversedges.  Supper  was  over,  and  she  had  begun  to 
think  of  departure,  when  the  drawing-room  door  was 
burst  open,  and  in  rushed  Denzil,  wet  from  head  to  foot 
with  rain,  and  his  face  a-stream  with  perspiration. 

"  They  dissolve  at  Easter  ! "  he  cried,  waving  his  hat 
wildly.  "  Northcote  announced  it  at  five  this  afternoon. 
Hammond  has  a  telegram;  I  met  him  at  the  station." 

"  Ho !  ho !  this  is  news ! "  answered  Mr.  Liversedge, 
starting  up  from  his  easy-chair. 

"  News,  indeed  ! "  said  his  wife ;  "  but  that's  no 
reason,  Denzil,  why  you  should  make  my  carpet  all  rain 
and  mud.  Do  go  and  take  your  coat  off,  and  clean  your 
boots,  there's  a  good  boy  !  " 

"  How  can  I  think  of  coat  and  boots  ?  Here,  Lily, 
lliug  this  garment  somewhere.  Give  me  a  duster,  or 
something,  to  stand  on,  Molly.  Toby,  wo  must  have  a 
meeting  in  a  day  or  two.     Can  we  get  the  Public  Hall 


156  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

for  Thursday  or  Friday  ?  Shall  we  go  round  and  see 
our  committee-men  to-night  ?  " 

"  Time  enough  to-morrow ;  most  of  them  are  just 
going  to  bed.  But  how  is  it  no  one  had  an  inkling  of 
this  ?     They  have  kept  the  secret  uncommonly  well." 

"  The  blackguards !  Ha,  ha !  Now  for  a  good  fight ! 
It'll  be  old  Welwyn-Baker,  after  all,  you'll  see.  They 
won't  have  the  courage  to  set  up  a  new  man  at  a 
moment's  notice.  The  old  buffer  will  come  maudling 
once  more,  and  we'll  bowl  him  off  his  pins ! " 

Lilian  sat  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  him.  His  excite- 
ment infected  her,  and  when  they  went  home  together 
she  talked  of  the  coming  struggle  with  joyous  anima- 
tion. 


XV 


The  next  morning — Tuesday,  March  9th — there  was  a 
rush  for  the  Loudon  2)a23ers.  Every  copy  that  reached 
the  Polterham  vendors  was  snapped  up  within  a  few 
minutes  of  its  arrival.  Peo23le  who  had  no  right  of 
membership  ran  ravening  to  the  Literary  Institute  and 
the  Constitutional  Literary  Society,  and  peered  over  the 
shoulders  of  legitimate  readers,  on  such  a  day  as  this 
unrebuked.  Mr.  ChoAvn's  drapery  establishment  pre- 
sented a  strange  spectacle.  For  several  hours  it  was 
thronged  with  sturdy  Radicals  eager  to  hear  their 
eminent  friend  hold  forth  on  the  situation.  At  eleven 
o'clock  Mr.  Chown  fairly  mounted  a  chair  behind  his 
counter,  and  delivered  a  formal  harangue — thus,  as  he 
boasted,  opening  the  political  campaign.  He  read  aloud 
(for  the  seventh  time)  Lord  Beaconsfield's  public  letter 
to  the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  in  which  the  country  was 
warned,  to  begin  with,  against  the  perils  of  Home  Eule. 
"  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  all  men  of  light  and  leading  will 

resist  this   destructive   doctrine Rarely  in  this 

century  has  there  been  an  occasion  more  critical.  The 
power  of  England  and  the  peace  of  Europe  will  largely 

depend  on  the  verdict  of  the  country Peace  rests 

on  the  j)resence,  not  to  say  the  ascendency,  of  England 
in  the  Councils  of  Europe." 

"  Here  you  have  it,"  cried  the  orator,  as  he  dashed 


158 


DENZIL   QUARRIER 


the  newspaper  to  his  feet, "  pure,  unadulterated  Jingoism ! 
'Ascendency  in  the  Councils  of  Europe!^  How  are 
the  European  powers  likely  to  hear  that,  do  you  think  ? 
I  venture  to  tell  my  Lord  Beaconsfield — I  venture  to 
tell  him  on  behalf  of  this  constituency — aye,  and  on 
behalf  of  this  country  —  that  it  is  he  who  holds 
'destructive  doctrine'  !  I  venture  to  tell  my  Lord 
Beaconsfield  that  England  is  not  prepared  to  endorse 
any  such  insolent  folly!  We  shall  very  soon  have  an 
opportunity  of  hearing  how  far  such  doctrine  recom- 
mends itself  to  our  man  '  of  light  and  leading ' — to  our 
Eadical  candidate — to  our  future  member,  Mr.  Denzil 
Quarrier ! " 

A  burst  of  cheering  echoed  from  the  drapery-laden 
shelves.  Two  servant-girls  who  had  come  to  the  door 
intent  on  purchase  of  hair-pins  ran  frightened  away, 
and  sj)read  a  report  that  Mr.  Chown's  shop  was  on 
fire. 

At  dinner-time  the  politician  was  faced  by  his  angry 
wife. 

"  I  know  what  the  end  of  this'W  be ! "  cried  Mrs. 
Chown.  "You're  ruining  your  business,  that's  what 
you're  doing!  Who  do  you  think'll  come  to  the  shop 
if  they  find  it  full  of  shouting  ragamuffins?  They'll 
all  go  to  Huxtable's,  that's  what  they'll  do!  I've  no 
patience  " 

"  There's  no  need  to  declare  that ! "  replied  Mr. 
Chown,  rolling  his  great  eyes  at  her  with  an  expression 
of  the  loftiest  scorn.  "I  have  known  it  for  thirteen 
years.  You  will  be  so  good  as  to  attend  to  your  own 
affairs,  and  leave  me  to  see  to  7nine !  AVhat  does  a 
woman  care  for  the  interests  of  the  country.  Grovelling 
gex !    Perhaps  when  I  am  called  upon  to  shoulder  a  rifle 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  159 

and  go  forth  to  die  on  the  field  of  battle,  your  dense 
understanding  will  begin  to  perceive  what  was  at  stake. 
— Not  another  syllable!  I  forbid  it!  Sit  down  and 
serve  the  potatoes !  " 

At  the  same  hour  Denzil  Quarrier,  at  luncheon  with 
Lilian,  was  giving  utterance  to  his  feelings  on  the  great 
topic  of  the  day. 

"  Now  is  the  time  for  Avomen  to  show  whether  their 
judgment  is  worthy  of  the  least  confidence.  This  letter 
of  Beaconsfield's  makes  frank  appeal  to  the  spirit  of 
Jingoism;  he  hopes  to  get  at  the  fighting  side  of 
Englishmen,  and  go  back  to  power  on  a  wave  of  '  Rule, 
Britannia '  bluster.  If  it  is  true  that  women  are  to  be 
trusted  in  politics,  their  influence  will  be  overwhelming 
against  such  irresponsible  ambition.  I  have  my  serious 
doubts " 

He  shook  his  head  and  laughed. 

"  I  will  do  my  utmost ! "  exclaimed  Lilian,  her  face 
glowing  with  sympathetic  enthusiasm.  "  I  will  go  and 
talk  to  all  the  people  we  know  " 

"  Really !     You  feel  equal  to  that  ?  " 

"  I  will  begin  this  very  afternoon !  I  think  I  under- 
stand the  questions  sufficiently.  Suppose  I  begin  with 
Mrs.  Powell  ?  She  said  her  husband  had  always  voted 
Conservative,  but  that  she  couldn't  be  quite  sure  what 
he  would  do  this  time.  Perhaps  I  can  persuade  her  to 
take  our  side." 

"  Have  a  try  !  Lut  you  astonish  me,  Lily — you  are 
transformed  ! " 

"  Oh,  I  have  felt  that  I  might  find  courage  when  tlie 
time  came."  She  put  her  head  aside,  and  laughed  with 
charming  naivete.  "  I  can't  sit  idle  at  home  whilst  you 
are  working  with  such  zeal.     And  I  really /ee?  what  you 


IGO 


DENZIL  QUARRIER 


say:  women  have  a  clear  duty.  How  excited  Mrs. 
Wade  must  be  I  " 

"  Have  you  written  all  the  dinner-cards  ?  " 

"  They  were  all  sent  before  twelve." 

"  Good  !  Hammond  will  be  here  in  half  an  hour  to 
talk  over  the  address  with  me.  Dinner  at  seven 
prompt;  I  am  due  at  Toby's  at  eight.  Well,  it's  worth 
going  in  for,  after  all,  isn't  it  ?  I  am  only  Just 
beginning  to  live." 

"And  I,  too!" 

The  meal  was  over.  Denzil  walked  round  the  table 
and  bent  to  lay  his  cheek  against  Lilian's. 

"  I  admire  you  more  than  ever,"  he  whispered,  half 
laughing.  "  What  a  reserve  of  energy  in  this  timid 
little  girl  !  Wait  and  see;  who  knows  what  sort  of 
table  you  will  i^reside  at  some  day  ?  I  have  found  my 
vocation,  and  there's  no  saying  how  far  it  will  lead  me. 
Heavens  !  what  a  speech  I'll  give  them  at  the  Public 
Hall  !  It's  bubbling  over  in  me.  I  could  stand  up 
and  thunder  for  three  or  four  hours  !  " 

They  gossiped  a  little  longer,  then  Lilian  went  to 
prepare  for  her  call  upon  Mrs.  Powell,  and  Quarrier 
retired  to  the  library.  Here  he  was  presently  waited 
upon  by  Mr.  Hammond,  editor  of  the  Polterliam 
Examiner.  Denzil  felt  no  need  of  assistance  in  draw- 
ing up  the  manifesto  which  would  shortly  be  addressed 
to  Liberal  Polterham;  but  Hammond  was  a  pleasant 
fellow  of  the  go-ahead  sj^ecies,  and  his  editorial  pen  would 
be  none  the  less  zealous  for  confidences  such  as  this.  The 
colloquy  lasted  an  hour  or  so.  Immediately  upon  the 
editor's  departure,  a  servant  aj^peared  at  the  study  door. 

"Mrs.  Wade  wishes  to  see  you,  sir,  if  you  are  at 
leisure." 


DENZIL   QITARRIER  161 

"  Certainly  ! " 

The  widow  entered.  Her  costume— perhaps  in 
anticii^ation  of  the  sunny  season — was  more  elaborate 
and  striking  than  formerly.  She  looked  a  younger 
woman,  and  walked  with  lighter  step. 

"  I  came  to  see  Mrs.  Quarrier,  but  she  is  out.  You, 
I'm  afraid,  are  frightfully  busy  ?  " 

"  No,  no.  This  is  the  breathing  time  of  the  day  with 
me.  I've  just  got  rid  of  our  journalist.  Sit  down, 
pray." 

"  Oh,  I  won't  stop.  But  tell  Lilian  I  am  eager  to  see 
her." 

"  She  is  off  canvassing — really  and  truly  !  Gone  to 
assail  Mrs.  Powell.     Astonishing  enthusiasm  !  " 

"  I'm  delighted  to  hear  it  !  " 

The  exclamation  lingered  a  little,  and  there  was  in- 
voluntary surprise  on  Mrs.  Wade's  features.  She  cast 
a  glance  round  the  room. 

'•'  Do  sit  down,"  urged  Denzil,  placing  a  chair. 
"  "What  do  you  think  of  Dizzy's  letter  ?  Did  you  ever 
read  such  bunkum  ?  And  his  '  men  of  light  and  lead- 
ing ' — ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 

"He  has  stolen  the  phrase,"  remarked  Mrs.  Wade. 
"Where  from,  I  can't  say;  but  I'm  perfectly  sure  I 
have  come  across  it." 

"Ha  !  I  wish  we  could  authenticate  that  !  Search 
your  memory — do — and  get  a  letter  in  the  Examiuer  on 
Saturday." 

"Some  one  will  be  out  with  it  before  tlien.  Besides, 
I'm  sure  you  don't  wish  for  me  to  draw  attention  to 
myself  just  now." 

"  Why  not  ?  I  shall  be  disappointed  if  you  don't 
give  me  a  great  deal  of  help." 


162  DENZIL  QtJARRIER 

"  I  am  hardly  proper,  you  know." 

She  looked  steadily  at  him,  with  an  inscrutable 
smile,  then  let  her  eyes  again  stray  round  the  room. 

"  Bosh  !  As  I  was  saying  to  Lily  at  lunch,  women 
ought  to  have  a  particular  interest  in  this  election.  If 
they  are  worth  anything  at  all,  they  will  declare  that 
England  sha'n't  go  in  for  the  chance  of  war  just  to 
please  that  Jew  phrase-monger.  I'm  ready  enough 
for  a  fight,  on  sound  occasion,  but  I  won't  fight  in 
obedience  to  Dizzy  and  the  music-halls  !  By  jingo, 
no  !" 

He  laughed  uproariously. 

"  You  won't  get  many  Polterham  women  to  see  it  in 
that  light,"  observed  the  widow.  "  This  talk  about  the 
ascendency  of  England  is  just  the  thing  to  please  them. 
They  adore  Dizz}^,  because  he  is  a  fop  who  has  suc- 
ceeded brilliantly;  they  despise  Gladstone,  because  he  is 
conscientious  and  an  idealist.  Surely  I  don't  need  to 
tell  you  this  ?  " 

She  leaned  forward,  smiling  into  his  face. 

"  Well,"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  laugh,  "  of  course  I 
can  admit,  if  you  like,  that  most  Avomen  are  not  worth 
anything  politically.     But  why  should  I  be  uncivil  ?  " 

Mrs,  Wade  answered  in  a  low  voice,  strangely 
gentle. 

"  Don't  I  know  their  silliness  and  worthlessness  ? 
What  woman  has  more  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  her  sex  ?  " 

"  Let  us — hope  !  " 

"  For  the  millennium — yes."  Her  eyes  gleamed,  and 
she  went  on  in  a  more  accustomed  tone.  "Women  are 
the  great  reactionary  force.  In  political  and  social 
matters  their  native  baseness  shows  itself  on  a  large 
scale.     They  worship  the  vulgar,  the  pretentious,  the 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  163 

false.  Here  they  will  most  of  tliem  pester  their 
husbands  to  vote  for  Welwyn-Baker  just  because  they 
hate  change  with  the  hatred  of  weak  fear.  Those  of 
them  who  know  anything  at  all  about  the  Irish  question 
are  dead  set  against  Ireland — simply  because  they  are 
unimaginative  and  ungenerous;  they  can't  sympathize 
with  what  seems  a  hopeless  cause,  and  Ireland  to  them 
only  suggests  the  dirty  Irish  of  Polterham  back  streets. 
As  for  European  war,  the  idiots  are  fond  of  drums  and 
fifes  and  military  swagger;  they  haven't  brains  enough 
to  picture  a  battle-field." 

"You  are  severe,  Mrs.  Wade.  I  should  never  have 
ventured  " 

"  You  are  still  afraid  of  telling  me  the  truth !  " 

"Well,  let  us  rejoice  in  the  exceptions.  Yourself, 
Lilian,  my  sister  Mary,  for  instance." 

The  widow  let  her  eyes  fall  and  kept  silence. 

"  We  hope  yon  will  dine  with  us  on  Friday  of  next 
week,"  said  Denzil.  "  Lilian  posted  you  an  invitation 
this  morning.     There  will  be  a  good  many  people." 

"  Seriously,  then,  I  am  to  work  for  you,  openly  and 
vigorously  ?  " 

"  What  a  contemptible  fellow  I  should  be  if  I  wished 
you  to  hold  aloof  ! "  He  spoke  sincerely,  having  over- 
come his  misgivings  of  a  short  time  ago.  "  The  fight 
will  be  fought  on  large  questions,  you  know.  I  want  to 
win,  but  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  win  honestly; 
it's  a  fortunate  thing  that  I  probably  sha'n't  be  called 
upon  to  declare  my  views  on  a  thousand  side-issues." 

"  Don't  be  so  sure  of  that.  Polterham  is  paltry,  even 
amid  national  excitement." 

"  Confound  it !  then  I  will  say  what  I  think,  and  risk 
it.     If  they  want  a  man  who  will  fight  sincerely  for  the 


1G4  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

interests  of  the  people,  here  he  is!  I'm  on  the  side  of 
the  poor  devils;  I  wish  to  see  them  better  off;  I  wish  to 
promote  honest  government,  and  chnck  the  selfish  lub- 
bers overboard.  Forgive  the  briny  phrase;  you  know 
Avhy  it  comes  natural  to  me." 

Mrs.  Wade  gave  him  her  kindest  smile. 

"You  will  win,  no  doubt  of  it;  and  not  this  battle 
only." 

She  rose,  and  half  turned  away. 

"  By-the-bye,  shall  you  be  able  to  finish  your  book  ?  " 

"It  is  finished.  I  wrote  the  last  page  yesterday 
morning.     AVonderful,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"  A  good  omen.     My  love  to  Lilian." 

As  they  shook  hands,  Mrs.  AVade  Just  raised  her  eyes 
for  an  instant,  timorously.  The  look  was  quite  unlike 
anything  Denzil  hud  yet  seen  on  her  face.  It  caused 
him  to  stand  for  a  few  moments  musing. 

From  half-past  four  to  half-jiast  six  he  took  a  long 
walk;  such  exercise  was  a  necessity  with  him,  and  the 
dwellers  round  about  Polterham  had  become  familiar 
with  the  sight  of  his  robust  figure  striding  at  a  great 
pace  about  roads  and  fields.  Generally  he  made  for 
some  wayside  inn,  where  he  could  refresh  himself  with  a 
tankard  of  beer,  after  which  he  lit  his  pipe,  and  walked 
with  it  between  his  teeth.  Toby  Liversedge,  becoming 
aware  of  this  habit,  was  inclined  to  doubt  its  prudence. 
"  Beware  of  the  teetotalers,  Denzil ;  they  are  a  power 
among  us."  AVhereto  Quarrier  replied  that  teetotalers 
might  be  eternally  condemned ;  he  would  stick  by  his 
ale  as  tenaciously  as  the  old  farmer  of  Thornaby  Waste. 

"  It's  the  first  duty  of  a  I'adical  to  set  his  face  against 
humbug.  If  I  see  no  harm  in  a  thing,  I  shall  do  it 
openly,  and  let  people  " 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  165 

At  this  point  he  cliecked  himself,  almost  as  if  he  had 
a  sudden  stitch  in  the  side.  Tobias  asked  for  an  exjjla- 
nation,  but  did  not  receive  one. 

On  getting  home  again,  he  found  Lilian  in  the 
drawing-room.  (As  an  ordinary  thing  he  did  not 
"  dress ''  for  dinner,  since  his  evenings  were  often  spent 
in  the  company  of  people  who  would  have  disliked  the 
conspicuousness  of  his  ajipearance.)  She  rose  to  meet 
him  with  shining  countenance,  looking  happier,  indeed, 
and  more  rarely  beautiful  than  he  had  ever  seen  her. 

"  What  cheer  ?     A  triumph  already  ?  " 

"1  think  so,  Denzil;  I  really  think  so.  Mrs.  Powell 
has  promised  me  to  do  her  very  best  with  her  husband. 
Oh,  if  you  could  have  heard  our  conversation!  I 
hadn't  thought  it  possible- for  any  one  to  be  so  ignorant 
of  the  simplest  political  facts.  One  thing  that  she  said 
— I  was  talking  about  war,  and  suddenly  she  asked  me : 
'  Do  you  think  it  likely,  Mrs.  Quarrier,  that  there  would 
be  an  inscription  ?  For  a  moment  I  couldn't  see  what 
she  meant.  'An  inscription?'  'Yes;  if  there's  any 
danger  of  that,  and — my  four  boys  growing  up!' 
Then,  of  course,  I  understood.  Fortunately,  she  was 
so  very  much  in  earnest  that  I  had  no  temptation  to 
smile." 

"  And  did  you  encourage  her  alarm  ?  " 

"  I  felt  I  had  no  right  to  do  that.  To  avoid  repeating 
the  word,  I  said  that  I  didn't  think  that  system  would 
ever  find  favour  in  England.  At  the  same  time,  it  was 
quite  certain  that  our  army  would  have  to  be  greatly 
strengthened  if  this  war-fever  Avent  on.  Oh,  we  had 
an  endless  talk — and  she  was  certainly  impressed  with 
my  arguments." 

"Bravo!     Why,  this  is  something  like!  " 


166  DENZIL  QtJARBlER 

"  You  can't  think  what  courage  it  has  given  me ! 
To-morrow  I  shall  go  to  Mrs.  Clifford — yes,  I  shall. 
She  is  far  more  formidable;  but  I  want  to  try  my 
strength.'' 

"Ho,  ho!  What  a  pugnacious  Lily — a  sword-Lily ! 
You  ought  to  have  had  an  heroic  name — Deborah,  or 
Joan,  or  Portia!     Your  eyes  gleam  like  beacons." 

"  I  feel  more  contented  with  myself. — Oh,  I  am  told 
that  Mrs.  Wade  called  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"Yes;  anxious  to  see  you.  Burning  with  wrath 
against  female  Toryism.  She  was  astonished  when  I 
told  her  of  your  expedition." 

Lilian  laughed  merrily.  Thereupon  dinner  was  an- 
nounced, and  they  left  the  room  hand  in  hand. 

That  evening  it  was  rumoured  throughout  the  town 
that  Mr.  Welwyn-Baker  had  telegraphed  a  resolve  not 
to  offer  himself  for  re-election.  In  a  committee-room 
at  the  Constitutional  Literary  Society  was  held  an 
informal  meeting  of  Conservatives,  but  no  one  of  them 
had  definite  intelligence  to  communicate.  Somebody 
had  told  somebody  else  that  Hugh  AVelwyn-Baker  held 
that  important  telegram  from  his  father;  that  was  all. 
Mr.  Mumbray's  hopes  rose  high.  On  the  morrow,  at 
another  meeting  rather  differently  constituted  (miserable 
lack  of  organization  still  evident  among  the  Tories),  it 
was  made  known  on  incontestable  authority  that  the 
sitting  Member  tcould  offer  himself  for  re-election. 
Mr.  Mumbray  and  his  supporters  held  high  language. 
"  It  would  be  party  suicide,"  they  went  about  repeating. 
With  such  a  man  as  Denzil  Quarrier  on  the  Eadical 
side,  they  must  have  a  new  and  a  strong  candidate! 
But  all  was  confusion;  no  one  could  take  the  responsi- 
bility of  acting. 


DENZIL  QtJARRIER  167 

Already  the  affairs  of  the  Liberals  were  in  perfect 
order,  and  it  took  but  a  day  or  two  to  decide  even  the 
minutiae  of  the  campaign.  To  Quarrier's  candidature 
no  one  within  the  party  offered  the  least  opposition. 
Mr.  Chown,  who  had  for  some  time  reserved  his  judg- 
ment, declared  to  all  and  sundry  that,  "  all  things  con- 
sidered, a  better  man  could  scarcely  have  been  chosen." 
Before  thus  committing  himself  he  had  twice  called 
upon  Quarrier,  and  been  closeted  with  him  for  a  long 
time.  Now,  in  these  days  of  arming,  he  received  a  card 
inviting  him  (and  his  wife)  to  dine  at  the  candidate's 
house  on  a  certain  evening  a  fortnight  ahead;  it  was 
the  second  dinner  that  Denzil  had  planned,  but  Mr. 
Chown  was  not  aware  of  this,  nor  that  the  candidate 
had  remarked  of  him  to  Lilian :  "  AVe  must  have  that 
demagogue  among  his  kind,  of  course."  Denzil's  agent 
(Hummerstone  by  name)  instantly  secured  rooms  in 
admirable  situations,  and  the  Public  Hall  was  at  the 
disposal  of  the  party  for  their  first  great  meeting  a  few 
days  hence. 

In  facing  that  assembly  (Toby  Liversedge  was 
chairman)  Denzil  had  a  very  slight  and  very  brief 
recurrence  of  his  platform  nervousness.  Determined 
to  risk  nothing,  he  wrote  out  his  speech  with  great 
care  and  committed  it  to  memory.  The  oration 
occupied  about  two  hours,  with  not  a  moment  of 
faltering.  It  was  true  that  he  had  discovered  his 
vocation;  he  spoke  like  a  man  of  long  Parliamentary 
experience,  to  the  astonished  delight  of  his  friends, 
and  with  enthusiastic  applause  from  the  mass  of  his 
hearers.  Such  eloquence  had  never  been  heard  in 
Polterham.  If  anything,  he  allowed  himself  too  much 
scope  in  vituperation,  but  it  was  a  fault  on  the  right 


IGS  DEXZIL   QUARRIER 

side.  The  only  circumstance  that  troubled  him  was 
when  his  eye  fell  upon  Lilian,  and  he  saw  her  crying 
with  excitement;  a  fear  passed  through  his  mind  that 
she  might  be  overwrought  and  fall  into  hysterics,  or 
faint.  The  occasion  proved  indeed  too  much  for  her; 
that  night  she  did  not  close  her  eyes,  and  the  next  day 
saw  her  prostrate  in  nervous  exhaustion.  But  she 
seemed  to  pick  up  her  strength  again  very  quickly, 
and  was  soon  hard  at  work  canvassing  among  the 
electors'  wives. 

"  Don't  overdo  it,"  Denzil  cautioned  her.  "Eemem- 
ber,  if  you  are  ill,  I  shall  mope  by  your  bedside." 

"  I  can't  stop  now  that  I  have  begun,"  was  her  reply. 
"If  I  try  to  sit  idle,  I  sMll  be  ill." 

She  could  read  nothing  but  newspapers;  her  piano 
was  silent ;  she  talked  politics,  and  politics  only.  Never 
was  seen  siich  a  change  in  woman,  declared  her 
intimates;  yet,  in  spite  of  probabilities,  they  thought 
her  more  charming  than  ever.  No  word  of  animosity 
ever  fell  from  her  Hjds;  what  inspired  her  was  simple 
ardour  for  Denzil's  cause,  and,  as  she  considered  it,  that 
of  the  oi^in-essed  multitude.  In  her  way,  said  Toby 
Liversedge,  she  was  as  eloquent  as  Quarrier  himself, 
and  sundry  other  people  were  of  the  same  opinion. 


XVI 

With  sullen  acquiescence  the  supporters  of  Mr. 
Mumbray  and  "  Progressive  Conservatism  " — what 
phrase  is  not  good  enough  for  the  lips  of  party? — 
recognized  that  they  must  needs  vote  for  the  old  name. 
Dissension  at  such  a  moment  was  more  dangerous  than 
an  imbecile  candidate.  Mr.  Sam  Quarrier  had  declared 
that  rather  than  give  his  voice  for  Mumbray  he  would 
remain  neutral.  "Old  W.-B,  is  good  enough  for  a 
figure-head;  he  signifies  something.  If  we  are  to  be 
beaten,  let  it  be  on  the  old  ground."  That  defeat  was 
likely  enough,  the  more  intelligent  Conservatives  could 
not  hel^  seeing.  Many  of  them  (Samuel  among  the 
number)  had  no  enthusiasm  for  Beaconsfield,  and  la 
haute  iiolitique  as  the  leader  understood  it,  but  they 
liked  still  less  the  principles  represented  by  Councillor 
Chown  and  his  vociferous  regiment.  So  the  familiar 
bills  were  once  more  posted  about  the  streets,  and  once 
more  the  Tory  canvassers  urged  men  to  vote  for 
Welwyn-Baker  in  the  name  of  Church  and  State. 

At  Salutary  Mount  (this  was  the  name  of  the  ex- 
Mayor's  residence)  personal  disappointment  left  no 
leisure  for  lamenting  the  prospects  of  Conservatism. 
Mr.  Mumbray  sliut  himself  up  in  the  room  known  as 
his  "study."  Mrs.  Mumbray  stormed  at  her  servants, 
wrangled  with  her  children,  and  from  her  husband  held 
apart  in  sour  contempt — feeble,  pompous  creature  that 


170  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

he  was!  With  such  an  opportuuity,  and  unable  to 
make  use  of  it!  But  for  Tier,  he  would  never  even  have 
become  Mayor.  She  was  enraged  at  having  yielded 
in  the  matter  of  Serena's  betrothal.  Glazzard  had 
fooled  them;  he  was  an  unprincipled  adventurer,  with 
an  eye  only  to  the  fortune  Serena  would  bring  him ! 

"If  you  marry  that  man,"  she  asseverated,  a  proems 
of  a  discussion  with  her  daughter  on  a  carpet  which 
had  worn  badly,  "  I  shall  have  nothing  whatever  to  do 
with  the  affair — nothing!" 

Serena  drew  apart  and  kej)t  silence. 

"  You  hear  what  I  say  ?    You  understand  me  ?  " 

"You  mean  that  you  won't  be  present  at  the 
wedding  ?  " 

"I  do!"  cried  her  mother,  careless  Avhat  she  said  so 
long  as  it  sounded  emj^hatic.  "You  shall  take  all  the 
responsibility.  If  you  like  to  throw  yourself  away  on  a 
bald-headed,  dissipated  man — as  I  know  he  is — it  shall 
be  entirely  your  own  doing.  I  wash  my  hands  of  it — 
and  that's  the  last  word  you  will  hear  from  me  on  the 
subject." 

In  consequence  of  which  assertion  she  vilified 
Glazzard  and  Serena  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour, 
until  her  daughter,  who  had  sat  in  abstraction,  slowly 
rose  and  withdrew. 

Alone  in  her  bedroom,  Serena  shed  many  tears,  as 
she  had  often  done  of  late.  The  poor  girl  was  miserably 
uncertain  how  to  act.  She  foresaw  that  home  would  be 
less  than  ever  a  home  to  her  after  this  accumulation  of 
troubles,  and  indeed  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  leave 
it,  but  whether  as  a  wife  or  as  an  independent  woman 
she  could  not  decide,  "  On  her  own  responsibility " — 
yes,  that  was  the  one  thing  certain.     And  what  experi- 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  171 

ence  had  she  whereon  to  form  a  judgment  ?  It  might 
be  that  her  mother's  arraignment  of  Glazzard  was 
grounded  in  truth,  but  how  couki  she  determine  one 
way  or  the  other  ?  On  the  whole,  she  liked  him  better 
than  when  she  promised  to  marry  him — yes,  she  liked 
him  better;  she  did  not  shrink  from  the  thought  of 
wedlock  with  him.  He  was  a  highly  educated  and 
clever  man ;  he  offered  her  a  prospect  of  fuller  life  than 
she  had  yet  imagined;  perhaps  it  was  a  choice  between 
him  and  the  ordinary  husband  such  as  fell  to  Polterham 
girls.  Yet  again,  if  he  did  not  really  care  for  her — 
only  for  her  money  ? 

She  remembered  Denzil  Quarrier's  lecture  on 
"  Woman,"  and  all  he  had  said  about  the  monstrously 
unfair  position  of  girls  who  are  asked  in  marriage  by 
men  of  the  world.  And  thereupon  an  idea  came  into 
her  mind.  Presently  she  had  dried  her  tears,  and  in 
half-an-hour's  time  she  left  the  house. 

Her  purpose  was  to  call  upon  Mrs.  Quarrier,  whom 
she  had  met  not  long  ago  at  Highmead.  But  the  lady 
was  not  at  home.  After  a  moment  of  indecision,  she 
wrote  on  the  back  of  her  visiting-card :  "  Will  you  be 
so  kind  as  to  let  me  know  when  I  could  see  you  ?  I 
will  come  at  any  hour." 

It  was  then  midday.  In  the  afternoon  she  received 
a  note,  hand-delivered.  Mrs.  Quarrier  would  be  at 
home  from  ten  to  twelve  the  next  morning. 

Again  she  called,  and  Lilian  received  her  in  the  small 
drawing-room.  They  looked  at  each  other  with 
earnest  faces,  Lilian  wondering  whether  this  visit  had 
anything  to  do  with  the  election.  Serena  was  nervous, 
and  could  not  reply  composedly  to  the  ordinary  phrases 
of  politejiess  with  which  she  was  received.     And  yet 


172  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

the  phrases  were  not  quite  ordinary;  whomsoever  she 
addressed,  Lilian  spoke  with  a  softness,  a  kindness 
peculiar  to  herself,  and  chose  words  which  seemed  to 
have  more  than  the  common  meaning. 

The  visitor  grew  sensible  of  this  pleasant  character- 
istic, and  at  length  found  voice  for  her  intention. 

"  I  wished  to  see  3'ou  for  a  very  strange  reason,  Mrs. 
Quarrier.  I  feel  half  afraid  that  I  may  even  offend  you. 
You  will  think  me  very  strange  indeed." 

Lilian  trembled.  The  old  dread  awoke  in  her.  Had 
Miss  Mumbray  discovered  something  ? 

"  Do  let  me  know  what  it  is,"  she  replied,  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  It — it  is  about  Mr.  Eustace  Gluzzard.  I  think  he 
is  an  intimate  friend  of  Mr.  Quarrier 's  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  is." 

"You  are  surprised,  of  course.  I  came  to  you 
because  I  feel  so  alone  and  so  helpless.  You  know 
that  I  am  engaged  to  Mr.  Glazzard  ?  " 

Her  voice  faltered.  Relieved  from  anxiety,  Lilian 
looked  and  spoke  in  her  kindest  way. 

"  Do  speak  freely  to  me,  Miss  Mumbray.  I  shall  be 
so  glad  to — to  help  you  in  any  way  I  can — so  very  glad." 

"  I  am  sure  you  mean  that.  My  mother  is  very  much 
against  our  marriage — against  Mr.  Glazzard.  She 
wants  me  to  break  off.  I  can't  do  that  without  some 
better  reason  than  I  know  of.  Will  you  tell  me  what 
you  think  of  Mr.  Glazzard  ?  Will  you  tell  me  in  con- 
fidence ?  You  know  him  probably  much  better  than 
I  do — though  that  sounds  strange.  You  have  known 
him  much  longer,  haven't  you  ?  " 

"  Not  much  longer.     I  met  him  first  in  London." 

"  But  you  know  him  through  your  husband.     I  only 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  173 

wish  to  ask  you  whether  you  have  a  high  opinion  of 
him.     How  has  he  imjiressed  you  from  the  first  ?" 

Lilian  reflected  for  an  instant,  and  spoke  with  grave 
conscientiousness. 

"  My  husband  considers  him  his  best  friend.  He 
thinks  very  highly  of  him.  They  are  unlike  each  other 
in  many  things.  Mr.  Quarrier  sometimes  wishes  that  he 
— that  Mr.  Glazzard  were  more  active,  less  absorbed  in 
art;  but  I  have  never  heard  him  say  anything  worse 
than  that.  He  likes  him  very  much  indeed.  They  have 
been  friends  since  boyhood." 

The  listener  sat  with  bowed  head,  and  there  was  a 
brief  silence. 

"  Then  you  think,"  she  said  at  length,  "  that  I  shall 
be  quite  safe  in — Oh,  that  is  a  bad  way  of  putting  it! 
Do  forgive  me  for  talking  to  you  like  this.  You,  Mrs. 
Quarrier,  are  very  happily  married ;  but  I  am  sure  you 
can  sympathize  with  a  girl's  uncertainty.     We  have  so 

few  opportunities  of Oh,  it  was  so  true  what  Mr. 

Quarrier  said  in  his  lecture  at  the  Institute — before  you 
came.  He  said  that  a  girl  had  to  take  her  husband  so 
very  much  on  trust — of  course  his  words  were  better 
than  those,  but  that's  what  he  meant." 

"  Yes — I  know — I  have  heard  him  say  the  same  thing." 

"I  don't  ask,"  pursued  the  other,  quickly,  "about  his 
religious  opinions,  or  anything  of  that  kind.  Nowa- 
days, I  suppose,  there  are  very  few  men  who  believe  as 
women  do — as  most  women  do."  She  glanced  at  Lilian 
timidly.  "  I  only  mean — do  you  think  him  a  good  man 
— an  honourable  man  ?  " 

"  To  that  I  can  reply  with  confidence,"  said  Lilian, 
sweetly.  "  I  am  quite  sure  he  is  an  honourable  man — 
quite   sure  I      I   believe   he    has    very   high    thoughts. 


174  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

Have  yon  heard  liim  play  ?  No  inan  who  hadn't  a 
noble  nature  could  play  like  that." 

Serena  drew  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Thank  you,  dear  Mrs.  Quarrier — thank  you  so  very 
much!     You  have  put  my  mind  at  rest." 

These  words  gave  delight  to  the  hearer.  To  do  good 
and  to  receive  gratitude  were  all  but  the  prime 
necessities  of  Lilian's  heart.  Obeying  her  impulse, 
she  began  to  say  all  manner  of  kind,  tender,  hopeful 
things.  Was  there  not  a  similarity  between  this  girl's 
position  and  that  in  which  she  had  herself  stood  when 
consenting  to  the  wretched  marriage  which  happily 
came  to  an  end  at  the  church  door  ?  Another  woman 
might  have  been  disposed  to  say,  in  the  female  parrot- 
language  :  "  But  do  you  love  him  or  not  ?  That  is 
the  whole  question."  It  was  riot  the  whole  question, 
even  granting  that  love  had  sj)oken  plainly ;  and  Lilian 
understood  very  well  that  it  is  possible  for  a  girl  to 
contemplate  wedlock  without  passionate  feeling  such  as 
could  obscure  her  judgment. 

They  talked  with  much  intimacy,  much  reciprocal 
good-will,  and  Serena  took  her  leave  with  a  compara- 
tively cheerful  mind.     She  had  resolved  what  to  do. 

And  the  opportunity  for  action  came  that  afternoon. 
Glazzard  called  upon  her.  He  looked  rather  gloomy, 
but  smiled  in  reply  to  the  smile  she  gave  him. 

"  Have  you  read  Mr.  Gladstone's  address  to  the 
electors  of  Midlothian  ? "  Serena  began  by  asking, 
with  a  roguish  look. 

"  Pooh !     What  is  such  stuff  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  knew  I  should  tease  you.  What  do  you  think  of 
Mr.  Quarrier's  chances  ?  " 

"  Oh^  he  will  be  elected,  no  doubt," 


DEXZIL   QUARRIER  175 

Glazzard  spoke  absently,  his  eyes  on  Serena's  face,  but 
seemingly  not  conscious  of  her  expression. 

"  I  hope  he  will,"  she  rejoined. 

"  "What ! — you  hope  so  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do.  I  am  convinced  he  is  the  right  man.  I 
agree  with  his  principles.     Henceforth  I  am  a  Radical." 

■Glazzard  laughed  mockingly,  and  Serena  joined,  but 
not  in  the  same  tone. 

"  I  like  him,"  she  jjursiied,  with  a  certain  odd  persist- 
ence. "  If  I  could  do  it  decently,  I  would  canvass  for 
him.  He  is  a  manly  man  and  means  what  he  says.  I 
like  his  wife,  too — she  is  very  sweet." 

He  glanced  at  her  and  pursed  his  lips. 

"I  am  sure,"  added  Serena,  "you  like  me  to  praise 
such  good  friends  of  yours  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

They  were  in  the  room  where  the  grand  piano  stood, 
for  Mrs.  Mumbray  had  gone  to  pass  the  day  with 
friends  at  a  distance.     Serena  said  of  a  sudden: 

"  Will  you  please  play  me  something — some  serious 
piece— one  of  the  best  you  know  ?" 

"  You  mean  it  ?  " 

"  I  do.  I  want  to  hear  you  play  a  really  noble  piece. 
You  won't  refuse." 

He  eyed  her  in  a  puzzled  way,  but  smiled,  and  sat 
down  to  the  instrument.  His  choice  was  from  Beet- 
hoven. As  he  played,  Serena  stood  in  an  attitude  of 
profound  attention.  When  the  music  ceased,  she  went 
up  to  him  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  Thank  you,  Eustace.  I  don't  think  many  people 
can  play  like  that." 

"No;  not  very  many,"  he  replied  quietly,  and 
thereupon  kissed  her  fingers. 


176  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

He  went  to  the  window  and  looked  out  into  the  chill, 
damp  garden. 

"  Serena,  have  you  any  idea  what  Sicily  is  like  at  this 
time  of  year  ?  " 

"A  faint  imagination.     Very  lovely,  no  doubt.'* 

"  I  want  to  go  there." 

"  Do  you  ? "  she  answered,  carelessly,  and  added  in 
lower  tones,  "  So  do  I." 

"  There's  no  reason  why  you  shouldn't.  Marry  me 
next  week,  and  we  will  go  straight  to  Messina," 

"  I  will  marry  you  in  a  fortnight  from  to-day,"  said 
Serena,  in  a  quivering  voice. 

"You  will?" 

Glazzard  walked  back  to  Highmead  with  a  counte- 
nance which  alternated  curiously  between  smiling  and 
lowering.  The  smile  was  not  agreeable,  and  the  dark 
look  showed  his  face  at  its  worst.  He  was  completely 
absorbed  in  thought,  and  when  some  one  stopped  full  in 
front  of  him  with  jocose  accost,  he  gave  a  start  of  alarm. 

"  I  should  be  afraid  of  lamp-posts,"  said  Quarrier, 
"  if  I  had  that  somnambulistic  habit.  Why  haven't  you 
looked  in  lately  ?  Men  of  infinite  leisure  must  wait 
upon  the  busy." 

"My  leisure,  thank  the  destinies!"  replied  Glazzard, 
"will  very  soon  be  spent  out  of  hearing  of  election 
tumult." 

"  "When  ?     Going  abroad  again  ?  " 

"  To  Sicily." 

"Ha!— that  means,  I  conjecture,"  said  Denzil, 
searching  his  friend's  face,  "that  a  certain  affair  will 
come  to  nothing  after  all?" 

"  And  what  if  you  are  right  ? "  returned  the  other, 
slowly,  averting  his  eyes. 


DENZIL    QUARRIER  177 

"  I  sha'n't  grieve.  No,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  shall 
not  !  So  at  last  I  may  speak  my  real  opinion.  It 
wouldn't  have  done,  Glazzard;  it  was  a  mistake,  old 
fellow.  I  have  never  been  able  to  understand  it.  You 
— a  man  of  your  standing — no,  no,  it  was  completely  a 
mistake,  believe  me!" 

Glazzard  looked  into  the  speaker's  face,  smiled  again, 
and  remarked  calmly : 

"That's  unfortunate.  I  didn't  say  my  engagement 
was  at  an  end;  and,  in  fact,  I  shall  be  married  in  a 
fortnight.     AVe  go  to  Sicily  for  the  honeymoon." 

A  flush  of  embarrassment  rose  to  Denzil's  face.  For 
a  moment  he  could  not  command  himself;  then  indig- 
nation possessed  him. 

"  That's  too  bad ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  You  took 
advantage  of  me.  You  laid  a  trap.  I'm  damned  if  I 
feel  able  to  apologize !  " 

Glazzard  turned  away,  and  it  seemed  as  if  he  would 
walk  on.  But  he  faced  about  again  abruptly,  laughed, 
held  out  his  hand. 

"  No,  it  is  I  who  should  apologize.  I  did  lay  a  traj),  and 
it  was  too  bad.     But  I  wished  to  know  your  real  oj^inion." 

Xo  one  more  pliable  than  Denzil.  At  once  he  took 
the  hand  that  was  offered  and  pressed  it  heartily. 

"I'm  a  blundering  fellow.  Do  come  and  sj^end  an 
hour  with  me  to-night.  From  eleven  to  twelve.  I  dine 
out  with  fools,  and  shall  rejoice  to  see  you  afterwards." 

"Thanks,  I  can't.     I  go  up  to  town  by  the  7.15." 

They  were  in  a  suburban  road,  and  at  the  moment 
some  ladies  approached.  Quarrier,  who  was  acquainted 
with  them,  raised  his  hat  and  spoke  a  few  hasty  words, 
after  which  he  walked  on  by  Glazzard's  side. 

"  My  opinion,"  he  said,  "  is  worth  very  little.     I  had 


178  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

no  right  whatever  to  express  it,  having  such  slight 
evidence  to  go  upon.  It  was  double  impertinence.  If 
you  can't  be  trusted  to  choose  a  wife,  who  could  ?  I  see 
that — now  that  I  have  made  a  fool  of  myself." 

"  Don't  say  any  more  about  it,"  replied  the  other,  in 
a  good-natured  voice.  "We  have  lived  in  the  palace 
of  truth  for  a  few  minutes,  that's  all." 

"So  you  go  to  Sicily.  There  you  will  be  in  your 
element.  Live  in  the  South,  Glazzard;  I'm  convinced 
you  will  be  a  happier  man  than  in  this  mill-smoke 
atmosphere.  You  have  the  artist's  temperament;  in- 
dulge it  to  the  utmost.  After  all,  a  man  ought  to  live  out 
what  is  in  him.    Your  wedding  will  be  here,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  absolutely  private." 

"  You  won't  reject  me  when  I  offer  good  wishes  ? 
There  is  no  man  living  who  likes  you  better  than  I  do, 
or  is  more  anxious  for  your  happiness.  Shake  hands 
again,  old  fellow.     I  must  hurry  off." 

So  they  parted,  and  in  a  couple  of  hours  Glazzard  was 
steaming  towards  London. 

He  lay  back  in  the  corner  of  a  carriage,  his  arms 
hanging  loose,  his  eyes  on  vacancy.  Of  course  he  had 
guessed  Quarrier's  opinion  of  the  marriage  he  was 
making;  he  could  imagine  his  speaking  to  Lilian  about 
it  with  half-contemptuous  amusement.  The  daughter 
of  a  man  like  Mumbray — an  unformed,  scarcely  pretty 
girl,  who  had  inherited  a  sort  of  fortune  from  some 
soap-boiling  family — what  a  culmination  to  a  career  of 
fastidious  dilettanteism  !  "He  has  probably  run 
through  all  his  money,"  Quarrier  would  add.  "Poor 
old  fellow  !  he  deserves  better  things." 

He  had  come  to  hate  Quarrier.  Yet  with  no  vulgar 
hatred;    not  with  the  vengeful  rancour  which  would 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  1T9 

find  delight  in  annihilating  its  object.  His  feeling  was 
consistent  with  a  measure  of  justice  to  Denzil's  qualities, 
and  even  with  a  good  deal  of  admiration;  as  it 
originated  in  mortified  vanity,  so  it  might  have  been 
rej^laced  by  the  original  kindness,  if  only  some  stroke  of 
fortune  or  of  power  had  set  Glazzard  in  his  original 
position  of  superiority.  Quarrier  as  an  ingenuous 
young  fellow  looking  up  to  the  older  comrade, 
reverencing  his  dicta,  holding  him  an  authority  on 
most  subjects,  was  acceptable,  lovable;  as  a  self- 
assertive  man,  given  to  patronage  (though  perhaj^s 
unconsciously),  and  succeeding  in  life  as  his  friend  stood 
still  or  retrograded,  he  aroused  dangerous  emotions. 
Glazzard  could  no  longer  endure  his  presence,  hated  the 
sound  of  his  voice,  cursed  his  genial  impudence;  yet 
he  did  not  wish  for  his  final  unhaj^piness — only  for  a 
temporary  pulling-down,  a  wholesome  castigation  of 
over-blown  pride. 

The  sound  of  the  rushing  wheels  affected  his  thought, 
kept  it  on  the  one  subject,  shaped  it  to  a  monotony  of 
verbal  suggestion.  Not  a  novel  suggestion,  by  any 
means ;  something  that  his  fancy  had  oiten  played  with ; 
very  much,  perhaps,  as  that  ingenious  criminal  spoken  of 
by  Serena  amused  himself  with  the  picture  of  a  wrecked 
train  long  before  he  resolved  to  enjoy  the  sight  in  reality. 

"  Live  in  the  South,"  Quarrier  had  urged.  "  Precisely; 
in  other  words:  Keep  out  of  my  way.  You're  a 
good,  simple-hearted  fellow,  to  be  sure,  but  it  was  a 
pity  I  had  to  trust  you  with  that  secret.  Leave 
England  for  a  long  time." 

And  why  not  ?  Certainly  it  was  good  counsel — if  it 
had  come  from  any  one  but  Denzil  Quarrier.  Probably 
he  should  act  upon  it  after  all. 


XVII 


His  rooms  were  in  readiness  for  him,  and  whilst  the 
attendant  pre23ared  a  light  supper,  he  examined  some 
letters  which  had  arrived  that  evening.  Two  of  the 
envelojjes  contained  pressing  invitations — with  reference 
to  accounts  rendered  and  re-rendered;  he  glanced  over 
the  writing  and  threw  them  into  the  fire.  The  third 
missive  was  more  interesting;  it  came  from  a  lady  of 
high  social  position  at  whose  house  he  had  formerly  been 
a  frequent  guest.  "  Why  do  we  never  see  you  ? "  she 
wrote.  "  They  tell  me  you  have  passed  the  winter  in 
England ;  why  should  you  avoid  your  friends  who  have 
been  condemned  to  the  same  endurance  ?  I  am  always 
at  home  on  Thursday." 

He  held  the  dainty  little  note,  and  mused  over  it. 
At  one  time  the  sight  of  this  handwriting  had 
quickened  his  pulses  with  a  delicious  hope;  now  it 
stimulated  his  gloomy  reflections.  Such  a  revival  of 
the  past  was  very  unseasonable. 

Before  going  to  bed  he  wrote  several  letters.  They 
were  announcements  of  his  coming  marriage — brief, 
carelessly  Avorded,  giving  as  little  information  as 
possible. 

The  next  morning  was  taken  up  with  business.  He 
saw,  among  other  peoj^le,  his  friend  Stark,  the  picture- 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  181 

collecting  lawyer.  Stark  had  letters  from  Polterham 
which  assured  him  that  the  Liberals  were  confident  of 
victory. 

"  Confounded  pity  that  Quarrier  just  got  the  start  of 
you !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You  could  have  kept  that  seat 
for  the  rest  of  your  life." 

"  Better  as  it  is,"  was  the  cheerful  reply.  "  I  should 
have  been  heartily  sick  of  the  business  by  now." 

"  There's  no  knowing.  So  you  marry  Miss  Mumbray  ? 
An  excellent  choice,  I  have  no  doubt.  Hearty  congratu- 
lations ! — Oh,  by-the-bye,  Jacobs  &  Burrows  have  a 
capital  Greuze — do  look  in  if  you  are  passing." 

Glazzard  perceived  clearly  enough  that  the  lawyer 
regarded  this  marriage  just  as  Quarrier  did,  the  j^is- 
aUer  of  a  disappointed  and  embarrassed  man.  There 
was  no  more  interest  in  his  career;  he  had  sunk  finally 
into  the  commonplace. 

At  three  o'clock  he  was  at  home  again,  and  witliout 
occupation.  The  calendar  on  his  writing-table 
reminded  him  that  it  was  Thursday.  After  all,  he 
might  as  Avell  respond  to  the  friendly  invitation  of  last 
evening,  and  say  good-bye  to  his  stately  acquaintances 
in  Grosvenor  Square.  He  paid  a  little  attention  to 
costume,  and  presently  went  forth. 

In  this  drawing-room  he  had  been  wont  to  shine  with 
the  double  radiance  of  artist  and  critic.  Here  he  had 
talked  pictures  with  the  fashionable  painters  of  the  day; 
music  with  men  and  women  of  resonant  name.  The 
accomplished  hostess  was  ever  ready  witli  that  smile  she 
bestowed  only  upon  a  few  favourites,  and  her  daughter 
— well,  he  had  misunderstood,  and  so  came  to  grief  one 
evening  of  mid-season.  A  rebuff,  the  gentlest  possible, 
but  leaving  no  scintilla  of  hope.   At  the  end  of  the  same 


182  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

season  she  gave  her  hand  to  Sir  Something  Somebody, 
the  diplomatist. 

And  to-day  the  hostess  was  as  kind  as  ever,  smiled 
quite  in  the  old  way,  held  his  hand  a  moment  longer 
than  was  necessary.  A  dozen  callers  were  in  the  room, 
he  had  no  opportunity  for  private  speech,  and  went  away 
without  having  mentioned  the  step  he  was  about  to  take. 
Better  so ;  he  might  have  spoken  indiscreetly,  unbecom- 
ingly, in  a  tone  which  would  only  have  surprised  and 
shocked  that  gracious  lady. 

He  reached  his  rooms  again  with  brain  and  heart  in 
fiery  tumult.  Serena  Mumbray! — he  was  tempted  to 
put  an  end  to  his  life  in  some  brutal  fashion,  such  as 
suited  with  his  debasement. 

Another  letter  had  arrived  during  his  absence.  An 
hour  passed  before  he  saw  it,  but  when  his  eye  at  length 
fell  on  the  envelope  he  was  roused  to  attention.  He 
took  out  a  sheet  of  blue  note-paper,  covered  with  large, 
clerkly  writing. 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"We  have  at  length  been  able  to  trace  the 
person  concerning  whom  you  are  in  communication  with 
us.  He  is  at  present  living  in  Bristol,  and  we  think  is 
likely  to  remain  there  for  a  short  time  yet.  Will  you 
favour  us  with  a  call,  or  make  an  appointment  elsewhere  ? 
"  AVe  have  the  honour  to  be,  dear  Sir, 

"Yours  faithfully, 

"  TuLKS  &  Crowe." 

He  paced  the  room,  holding  the  letter  behind  his 
back.  It  was  more  than  three  weeks  since  the  investi- 
gation referred  to  had  been  committed  to  Messrs.  Tulks 
&  Crowe,  private  inquiry  agents;  and  long  before  this 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  183 

he  had  grown  careless  whether  they  succeeded  or  not. 
An  imjjulse  of  curiosity;  nothing  more.  Well,  yes;  a 
fondness  for  jilaying  with  secrets,  a  disposition  to  get 
power  into  his  hands — excited  to  activity  just  after  a 
long  pleasant  talk  with  Lilian.  He  was  sorry  this 
letter  had  come;  3^et  it  made  him  smile,  which  perhaps 
nothing  else  would  have  done  just  now. 

"  To  be  weak  is  miserable,  doing  or  suffering."  The 
quotation  was  often  in  his  mind,  and  he  had  never  felt 
its  force  so  profoundly  as  this  afternoon.  The  worst  of 
it  was,  he  did  not  believe  himself  a  victim  of  inherent 
weakness;  rather  of  circumstances  which  persistently 
baffled  him.  But  it  came  to  the  same  thing.  AVas  he 
never  to  know  the  joy  of  vigorous  action  ? — of  asserting 
himself  to  some  notable  result  ? 

He  could  do  so  now,  if  he  chose.  In  his  hand  were 
strings,  which,  if  he  liked  to  pull  them,  would  topple 
down  a  goodly  edifice,  with  uproar  and  dust  and . 
amazement  indescribable :  so  slight  an  effort,  so  incom- 
mensurable an  outcome!  He  had  it  in  his  power  to 
shock  the  conventional  propriety  of  a  whole  town,  and 
doubtless,  t6  some  extent,  of  all  England.  What  a  vast 
joke  that  would  be — to  look  at  no  other  aspect  of  the 
matter  !  The  screamings  of  imbecile  morality — the 
confusion  of  party  zeal  —  the  roaring  of  indignant 
pulpits ! 

He  laughed  outright. 

But  no;  of  course  it  was  only  an  amusing  dream. 
He  was  not  malignant  enough.  The  old-fashioned 
sense  of  honour  was  too  strong  in  him.  Pooh!  He 
would  go  and  dine,  and  then  laugh  away  his  evening 
somewhere  or  other. 

Carefully  he  burnt  the  letter.     To-morrow  he  would 


184  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

look  in  at  the  office  of  those  people,  hear  their  story, 
and  so  have  done  with  it. 

Next  morning  he  was  still  in  the  same  mind.  He 
went  to  Tnlks  &  Crowe's,  and  spent  about  an  hour 
closeted  with  the  senior  member  of  that  useful  firm. 
"A  benevolent  interest — anxious  to  hel^)  the  poor  devil 
if  possible — miserable  story,  that  of  the  marriage — 
was  to  be  hoped  that  the  girl  would  be  persuaded  to 
acknowledge  him,  and  help  him  to  lead  an  honest  life 
— no  idea  where  she  was."  The  information  he  received 
was  very  full  and  satisfactory;  on  the  spot  he  paid  for 
it,  and  issued  into  the  street  again  with  tolerably  easy 
mind. 

To-morrow  he  must  run  down  to  Polterham  again. 
How  to  pass  the  rest  of  to-day  ?  Pressing  business 
was  all  off  his  hands,  and  he  did  not  care  to  look  uj) 
any  of  his  acquaintances;  he  was  not  in  the  mood  for 
talk.  Uncertain  about  the  future,  he  had  decided  to 
warehouse  the  furniture,  pictures,  and  so  on,  that 
belonged  to  him.  Perhaps  it  would  be  well  if  he 
occupied  himself  in  going  through  his  papers — making 
a  selection  for  the  fire. 

He  did  so,  until  midway  in  the  afternoon.  Perusal 
of  old  letters  will  not  generally  conduce  to  cheerfulness, 
and  Glazzard  once  more  felt  his  spirits  sink,  his  brain 
grow  feverishly  active.  Within  reach  of  where  he  sat 
was  a  railway  time-table;  he  took  it  up,  turned  to  the 
Great  Western  line,  pondered,  finally  looked  at  his 
watch. 

At  two  minutes  to  five  he  alighted  from  a  cab  at 
Paddington  Station — rushed,  bag  in  hand,  to  the  book- 
ing-office— caught  the  Bristol  train  just  as  the  guard 
had  signalled  for  starting. 


DEXZIL   QUARRIER  185 

He  was  at  Bristol  soon  after  eisjlit.  The  town  beins: 
strange  ground  to  him,  he  bade  a  cabman  drive  hjm  to 
a  good  hotel,  where  he  dined.  Such  glimpse  as  he  had 
caught  of  the  streets  did  not  invite  him  forth,  but 
neither  could  he  sit  unoccupied;  as  the  weather  was 
fair,  he  rambled  for  an  hour  or  two.  His  mind  was  in 
a  condition  difficult  to  account  for;  instead  of  dwelling 
upon  the  purpose  that  had  brought  him  hither,  it  busied 
itself  with  all  manner  of  thoughts  and  fancies  belonging 
to  years  long  past.  He  recalled  the  first  lines  of  a 
poem  he  had  once  attempted;  it  was  suggested  by  a 
reading  of  Coleridge — and  there,  possibly,  lay  the  point 
of  association.  Coleridge:  then  he  fell  upon  literary 
reminiscences.  Where,  by  the  way,  was  St.  Mary 
Redcliffe  ?  He  put  the  inquiry  to  a  passer-by,  and 
was  directed.  By  dreary  thoroughfares  he  came  into 
view  of  the  church,  and  stood  gazing  at  the  spire,  dark 
against  a  blotchy  sky.  Then  he  mocked  at  himself  for 
acting  as  if  he  had  an  interest  in  Chattertou,  when  in 
truth  the  name  signified  boredom  to  him.  Oh,  these 
English  provincial  towns!  What  an  atmosjjhere  of 
deadly  dulness  hung  over  them  all!  And  people  were 
born,  and  lived,  and  died  in  Bristol — merciful  powers! 

He  made  his  way  back  to  the  hotel,  drank  a  glass  of 
hot  whisky,  and  went  to  bed. 

After  a  sound  sleep  he  awoke  in  the  grey  dawn,  won- 
dered awhile  where  he  could  be,  then  asked  himself 
why  on  earth  he  had  come  here.  It  didn't  matter 
much;  he  could  strike  off  by  the  Midland  to  Polterham, 
and  be  there  before  noon.     And  again  he  slept. 

When  he  had  breakfasted,  he  called  to  the  waiter  and 
asked  him  how  far  it  was  to  that  part  of  the  town  called 
Hotwells.     Learning  that  the  road  thither  would  bring 


18G  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

him  near  to  Clifton,  lie  nodded  with  satisfaction.  Clif- 
ton \yas  a  place  to  be  seen;  on  a  bright  morning  like 
this  it  would  be  pleasant  to  walk  over  the  Downs  and 
have  a  look  at  the  gorge  of  the  Avon. 

A  cab  was  called.  With  one  foot  raised  he  stood  in 
uncertainty,  whilst  the  driver  asked  him  twice  whither 
they  were  to  go.  At  length  he  said  "  Hotwells,"  and 
named  a  street  in  that  locality.  He  lay  back  and 
closed  his  eyes,  remaining  thus  until  the  cab  stopped. 

Hastily  he  looked  about  him.  He  was  among  poor 
houses,  and  near  to  docks;  the  masts  of  great  ships 
appeared  above  roofs.  With  a  quick  movement  he 
drew  a  coin  from  his  pocket,  tossed  it  up,  caught  it 
between  his  hands.  The  driver  had  got  down  and  was 
standing  at  the  door. 

"  This  the  place  ?    Thanks;  I'll  get  out." 

He  looked  at  the  half-crown,  smiled,  and  handed  it 
to  the  cabman. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  stood  before  an  ugly  but  decent 
house,  which  had  a  card  iji  the  window  intimating  that 
lodgings  were  here  to  let.  His  knock  brought  a  woman 
to  the  door. 

"  I  think  Mr.  North  lives  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  he  do  live  yere,"  the  woman  answered,  in  a 
simple  tone.     "  Would  you  wish  for  to  see  him  ?  " 

"  Please  ask  him  if  he  could  see  a  gentleman  on  busi- 
ness—Mr. Marks." 

"  But  he  ben't  in,  sir,  not  just  now.     He  " she 

broke  off  and  pointed  up  the  street.  "  Why,  there  he 
come,  I  declare ! " 

"  The  tall  man  ?  " 

"  That  be  he,  sir." 

Glazzard  moved  towards  the  person  indicated^,  a  man 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  187 

of  perhaps  thirty,  with  a  good  figure,  a  thin,  sallow  face, 
cleau-shaven,  and  in  rather  shabby  clothes.  He  went 
close  up  to  him  and  said  gravely : 

"  Mr.  North,  I  have  just  called  to  see  you  on  busi- 
ness." 

The  young  man  suppressed  a  movement  of  uneasiness, 
drew  in  his  lank  cheeks,  and  looked  steadily  at  the 
speaker. 

"What  name?"  he  asked,  curtly,  with  the  accent 
which  represents  some  degree  of  liberal  education. 

"Mr.  Marks.  I  should  like  to  speak  to  you  in 
private." 

"  Has  any  one  sent  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  have  taken  the  trouble  to  find  where  you  were 
living.  It's  purely  my  own  affair.  I  think  it  will  be 
to  your  interest  to  talk  with  me." 

The  other  still  eyed  him  suspiciously,  but  did  not 
resist. 

"I  haven't  a  sitting-room,"  he  said,  "and  we  can't 
talk  here.     We  can  walk  on  a  little,  if  you  like." 

"  I'm  a  stranger.  Is  there  a  quiet  spot  anywhere 
about  here  ?  " 

"  If  we  jump  on  this  omnibus  that's  coming,  it'll 
take  us  to  the  Suspension  Bridge— Clifton,  you  know. 
Plenty  of  quiet  spots  about  there." 

The  suggestion  was  accepted.  On  the  omnibus  they 
conversed  as  any  casual  acquaintances  might  have  done. 
Glazzard  occasionally  inspected  his  companion's  features, 
which  were  not  vulgar,  yet  not  pleasing.  The  young 
man  had  a  habit  of  sucking  in  his  cheeks,  and  of  half 
closing  his  eyes  as  if  he  suffered  from  weak  sight;  his 
limbs  twitched  now  and  then,  and  he  constantly  fin- 
gered his  throat. 


188  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"A  fine  view/'  remarked  Glazzard,  as  they  came 
near  to  the  great  cliffs;  "but  the  bridge  spoils  it,  of 
course." 

"Do  you  think  so?  Not  to  my  mind.  I  always 
welcome  the  signs  of  civilization." 

Glazzard  looked  at  him  with  curiosity,  and  the 
speaker  threw  back  his  head  in  a  self-conscious,  con- 
ceited way. 

" Picturesqueness  is  all  very  well,"  he  added,  "but 
it  very  often  meaiis  hardships  to  human  beings.  I  don't 
ask  whether  a  country  looks  beautiful,  but  what  it  does 
for  the  inhabitants." 

"Very  right  and  proper,"  assented  Glazzard,  with  a 
curl  of  the  lip. 

"I  know  very  well,"  pursued  the  moralist,  "that 
civilization  doesn't  necessarily  mean  benefit  to  the  class 
which  ought  to  be  considered  first.  But  that's  another 
question.  It  ought  to  benefit  them,  and  eventually  it 
must." 

"  You  lean  towards  Socialism  ?  " 

"Christian  Socialism — if  you  know  what  that  sig- 
nifies," 

"  I  have  an  idea.  A  very  improving  doctrine,  no 
doubt." 

They  dismounted,  and  began  the  ascent  of  the  hill- 
side by  a  path  which  wound  among  trees.  Not  far 
from  the  summit  they  came  to  a  bench  which  afforded 
a  good  view. 

"  Suppose  we  stop  here,"  Glazzard  suggested.  "  It 
doesn't  look  as  if  we  should  be  disturbed." 

"  As  you  please." 

"  By-the-bye,  you  have  abbreviated  your  name,  I 
think  ?  '■ 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  189 

The  other  again  looked  uneasy  and  clicked  with  his 
tongue. 

"  You  had  better  say  what  you  want  with  me,  Mr. 
Marks,"  he  replied,  impatiently. 

"My  business  is  with  Arthur  James  Northway.  If 
you  are  he,  I  think  I  can  do  you  a  service." 

"  Why  should  you  do  me  a  service  ?  " 

"From  a  motive  I  will  explain  if  all  else  is  satis- 
factory." 

"How  did  you  find  out  where  I  was  ?" 

"By  private  means  Avhich  are  at  my  command." 
Glazzard  adopted  the  tone  of  a  superior,  but  was  still 
suave.  "  My  information  is  pretty  complete.  Naturally, 
you  are  still  looking  about  for  employment.  I  can't 
promise  you  that,  but  I  dare  say  you  wouldn't  object  to 
earn  a  five-pound  note  ?  " 

"  If  it's  anything — underhand,  I'll  have  nothing  to 
do  with  it." 

"  Nothing  you  can  object  to.  In  fact,  it's  an  affair 
that  concerns  you  more  than  any  one  else. — I  belieTe 
you  can't  find  any  trace  of  your  wife  ?  " 

Northway  turned  his  head,  and  peered  at  his  neigh- 
bour with  narrow  eyes. 

"It's  about  lier,  is  it?" 

"  Yes,  about  her." 

Strangely  enough,  Glazzard  could  not  feel  as  if  this 
conversation  greatly  interested  him.  He  kept  gazing 
at  the  Suspension  Bridge,  at  the  woods  beyond,  at  the 
sluggish  river,  and  thought  more  of  the  view  than  of 
his  interlocutor.  The  last  words  fell  from  his  lips 
idly. 

"You  know  where  she  is  ?  "  Northway  inquired. 

"  Quite  well.     I  have  seen  her  often  of  late — from  a 


190  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

distance.  To  prove  I  am  not  mistaken,  look  at  this 
portrait  and  tell  me  if  you  recognize  the  person  ?  " 

He  took  from  an  inner  pocket  a  mutilated  photo- 
graph; originally  of  cabinet  size,  it  was  cut  down  to  an 
oval,  so  that  only  the  head  remained.  The  portrait  had 
been  taken  in  London  between  Lilian's  return  from 
Paris  and  her  arrival  at  Polterham.  Glazzard  was  one 
of  the  few  favoured  people  who  received  a  copy. 

Northway  examined  it  and  drew  in  his  cheeks, 
breathing  hard. 

"  There's  no  mistake,  I  think  ?  " 

The  reply  was  a  gruff  negative. 

"  I  supi^ose  you  do  care  about  discovering  her  ?  " 

The  answer  was  delayed.  Glazzard  read  it,  however, 
in  the  man's  countenance,  which  expressed  various 
emotions. 

"  She  has  married  again — eh  ?  " 

"  First,  let  me  ask  you  another  question.  Have  you 
seen  her  relatives  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  have." 

"  With  what  result  ?  " 

"  They  profess  to  know  nothing  about  her.  Of  course, 
I  don't  believe  them." 

"But  you  may,"  said  Glazzard,  calmly.  "They 
speak  the  truth,  no  doubt.  From  them  you  must  hope 
for  no  information.  In  all  likelihood,  you  might  seek 
her  for  the  rest  of  your  life  and  never  come  upon  her 
track." 

"  Then  let  me  know  what  you  propose." 

"  I  offer  to  tell  you  where  she  is,  and  how  situated, 
and  to  enable  you  to  claim  her.  But  you,  for  your  part, 
must  undertake  to  do  this  in  a  certain  way,  which  I 
will  describe  when   everything  is  ready,  a  week  or  so 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  191 

hence.  As  I  have  said,  I  am  willing  to  reward  you  for 
agreeing  to  act  as  I  direct.  My  reasons  yon  shall 
understand  when  I  go  into  the  other  details.  You  will 
see  that  I  have  no  kind  of  selfish  object  in  view — in 
fact,  that  I  am  quite  justified  in  what  looks  like  vulgar 
plotting." 

Glazzard  threw  out  the  words  with  a  careless  con- 
descension, keeping  his  eyes  on  the  landscape. 

*'  I'll  take  back  the  portrait,  if  you  please." 

He  restored  it  to  his  pocket,  and  watched  Northway's 
features,  which  were  expressive  of  mental  debate. 

"At  present,"  he  went  on,  "  I  can  do  no  more  than 
give  you  an  idea  of  what  has  been  going  on.  Your 
wife  has  not  been  rash  enough  to  marry  a  second  time; 
but  she  is  supposed  to  be  married  to  a  man  of  wealth 
and  position — is  living  publicly  as  his  wife.  They  have 
deceived  every  one  who  knows  them." 

"  Except  you,  it  seems,"  remarked  Northway,  with 
a  gleam  from  between  his  eyelids. 

"Except  me — but  that  doesn't  concern  you.  Now, 
you  see  that  your  wife  has  done  nothing  illegal  ;  you 
can  doubtless  divorce  her,  but  have  no  other  legal 
remedy.  I  mention  this  because  it  might  occur  to  you 
that — you  will  excuse  me — that  the  situation  is  a 
profitable  one.  It  is  nothing  of  the  kind.  On  the 
threat  of  exposure  they  would  simj)ly  leave  England  at 
once.  Nothing  could  induce  them  to  part— be  quite 
sure  of  that.  The  man,  as  I  said,  has  a  high  position, 
and  you  might  be  tempted  to  suppose  that— to  speak 
coarsely — he  would  pay  blackmail.  Don't  think  it  for 
a  moment.  He  is  far  too  wise  to  persevere  in  what 
would  be  a  lost  game;  they  would  at  once  go  abroad. 
It  is  only  on  the  stage  that  men  consent  to  pay  for  the 


192  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

keeping  of  a  secret  which  is  quite  certain  not  to  be 
kept." 

Northway  had  followed  with  eager  attention,  pinch- 
ing his  long  throat  and  drawing  in  his  cheeks. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  To  remain  here  in  Bristol  for  a  week  or  so  longer. 
I  will  then  telegraph  to  you,  and  tell  you  where  to  meet 
me." 

"  Is  it  far  from  here  ?  " 

"  A  couple  of  hours'  journey,  or  so.  If  you  will 
allow  me,  I  will  pay  your  fare  at  once." 

He  took  out  a  sovereign,  which  Northway,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation,  accepted. 

"Do  you  take  any  interest  in  the  elections?" 
Glazzard  asked. 

"  Not  much,"  replied  the  other,  reassuming  his 
intellectual  air.  "  One  party  is  as  worthless  as  the 
other  from  my  point  of  view." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  that — you'll  understand  why  when 
we  meet  again.  And,  indeed,  I  quite  agree  with 
you." 

"  Politics  are  no  use  nowadays,"  pursued  Northway. 
"  The  questions  of  the  time  are  social.  We  want  a 
party  that  is  neither  Liberal  nor  Tory." 

"  Exactly. — AVell,  now,  may  I  depend  upon  you  ?  " 

"  I'll  come  when  you  send  for  me." 

"  Very  well.     I  have  your  address." 

He  stood  up,  hesitated  a  moment,  and  offered  his 
hand,  which  Northway  took  without  raising  his  eyes. 

"  I  shall  walk  on  into  Clifton ;  so  here  we  say  good- 
bye for  the  present. — A  week  or  ten  days." 

"I  suppose  you  won't  alter  your  mind,  Mr. — Mr. 
Marks  ?  " 


DENZIL  QUARRTER  193 

"  Not  the  least  fear  of  that.  I  have  a  public  duty 
to  discharge." 

So  speaking,  and  with  a  peculiar  smile  on  his  lips, 
Glazzard  walked  away.  Northway  watched  him  and 
seemed  tempted  to  follow,  but  at  length  went  down 
the  hill. 


XVIII 

Disappointed  in  his  matrimonial  project,  the  Eev. 
Scatchard  Vialls  devoted  himself  with  acrid  zeal  to  the 
interests  of  the  Conservative  party.  He  was  not  the 
most  influential  of  the  Polterham  clerics,  for  women  in 
general  rather  feared  than  liked  him ;  a  sincere  ascetic, 
he  moved  but  awkwardly  in  the  regions  of  tea  and 
tattle,  and  had  an  uncivil  habit  of  speaking  what  he 
thought  the  truth  without  regard  to  time,  place,  or 
person.  Some  of  his  sermons  had  given  offence,  with 
the  result  that  several  ladies  betook  themselves  to 
gentler  jareachers.  But  the  awe  inspired  by  his 
religious  enthusiasm  was  practically  useful  now  that  he 
stood  forward  as  an  assailant  of  the  political  j)rinciples 
held  in  dislike  by  most  Polterham  church-goers. 
There  was  a  little  band  of  district-visitors  who  stood  by 
him  the  more  resolutely  for  the  coldness  with  which 
worldly  women  regarded  him;  and  these  persons,  with 
their  opportunities  of  making  interest  in  poor  house- 
holds, constituted  a  party  agency  not  to  be  despised. 
They  worked  among  high  and  low  Avith  an  unscrupulous 
energy  to  which  it  is  not  easy  to  do  justice.  Wheedling 
or  menacing — doing  everything  indeed  but  argue — they 
blended  the  cause  of  Mr.  Welwyn-Baker  and  that  of 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  195 

the  Christian  religion  so  inextricably  that  the  wives  of 
humble  electors  came  to  regard  the  Tory  candidate  as 
Christ's  vicegerent  upon  earth,  and  were  convinced 
that  their  husbands'  salvation  depended  upon  a  Tory 
vote. 

One  Sunday,  Mr.  Vialls  took  for  his  text,  "  But 
rather  seek  ye  tlie  kingdom  of  God,  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added  unto  you."  He  began  by  pointing  out 
how  very  improper  it  would  be  for  a  clergyman  to 
make  the  pulpit  an  ally  of  the  hustings;  far  indeed  be 
it  from  him  to  discourse  in  that  place  of  party  questions 
— to  speak  one  word  which  should  have  for  its  motive 
the  advancements  of  any  electioneering  cause.  But  in 
these  times  of  social  discontent  and  upheaval  it  must  not 
be  forgotten  that  eternal  verities  were  at  stake.  There 
were  men — there  were  multitudes,  alas  !  who  made  it  the 
object  of  their  life-long  endeavour  to  oust  Christianity 
from  the  world ;  if  not  avowedly,  at  all  events  in  fact. 
Therefore  would  he  describe  to  them  in  brief,  clear 
sentences  what  really  was  implied  in  a  struggle  between 
the  parties  commonly  known  as  Conservative  and 
Liberal.  He  judged  no  individual;  he  spoke  only  of 
principles,  of  a  spirit,  an  attitude.  The  designs  of 
Russia,  the  troubles  in  Ireland — of  these  things  he 
knew  little  and  recked  less;  they  were  "party  shib- 
boleths," and  .did  not  concern  a  Christian  minister  in 
his  pulpit.  But  deeper  lay  the  interests  for  which 
parties  nowadays  were  in  truth  contending.  It  had 
come  to  this :  are  we  to  believe  or  are  we  not  to  believe 
that  the  "  kingdom  of  God "  must  have  precedence  of 
worldly  goods  ?  The  working  classes  of  this  country 
— ah,  how  sad  to  have  to  speak  with  condemnation  of 
the  poor! — were  being  led  to  think  that  the  only  object 


196  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

worth  striving  after  was  an  improvement  of  their 
material  condition.  Marvellous  to  say,  they  were 
encouraged  in  this  view  by  people  whom  Providence 
had  blessed  with  all  the  satisfactions  that  earth  can  give. 
When  the  wealthy,  the  educated  thus  repudiated  the 
words  of  Christ,  what  could  be  expected  of  those  whom 
supreme  Goodness  has  destined  to  a  subordinate  lot? 
No!  material  improvement  was  not  the  first  thing,  even 
for  those  unhappy  people  (victims  for  the  most  part  of 
their  own  improvident  or  vicious  habits)  who  had 
scarcely  bread  to  eat  and  raiment  wherewith  to  clothe 
themselves.  Let  them  seek  the  kingdom  of  God,  and 
these  paltry,  temporal  things  shall  surely  be  added  unto 
them. 

This  sermon  was  printed  at  the  office  of  the  PoUer- 
Jiam  Mercury,  and  distributed  freely  throughout  the 
towno  He  had  desired  no  such  thing,  said  Mr.  Vialls, 
but  the  pressure  of  friends  was  irresistible.  In  private, 
meanwhile,  he  spoke  fiercely  against  the  Kadical  candi- 
date, and  never  with  such  acrimony  as  in  Mrs. 
Mumbray's  drawing-room  when  Serena  was  present. 
One  afternoon  he  stood  up,  tea-cup  in  hand,  and,  as  his 
habit  was,  delivered  a  set  harangue  on  the  burning  topic. 

'*In  one  respect,"  he  urged,  after  many  other 
accusations,  "I  consider  that  Mr.  Quarrier  is  setting 
the  very  worst,  the  most  debasing,  the  most  demoralizing 
example  to  these  working  folk,  whose  best  interests  he 
professes  to  have  at  heart.  I  am  assured  (and  the 
witness  of  my  own  eyes  in  one  instance  warrants  me  in 
giving  credit  to  the  charge)  that  he  constantly  enters 
public-houses,  taverns,  even  low  dram-shops,  to  satisfy 
his  thirst  for  strong  liquor  in  the  very  face  of  day, 
before  the  eyes  of  any  one  who   may  happen  to  be 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  197 

passing.  This  is  simply  abominable !  If  an  honourable 
man  has  one  duty — one  social  duty — more  incumbent 
upon  him  than  another,  it  is  to  refrain  from  setting  an 
example  of  intemperance," 

Serena  had  listened  thus  far  with  a  look  of  growing 
irritation.  At  length  she  could  resist  no  longer  the 
impulse  to  speak  out. 

"But  surely,  Mr.  Vialls,  you  don't  charge  Mr. 
Quarrier  with  intemperance  ?  " 

"I  do.  Miss  Mumbray,"  replied  the  clergyman, 
sternly.  "Intemperance  does  not  necessarily  imply 
drunkenness.  It  is  intemperate  to  enter  public-houses 
at  all  hours  and  in  all  places,  even  if  the  liquor  partaken 
of  has  no  obvious  effect  upon  the  gait  or  speech  of  the 
drinker.     I  maintain'' 

"  Mr.  Quarrier  does  not  go  about  as  you  would  have 
us  believe." 

"Serena!"  interfered  her  mother.  "Do  you  con- 
tradict Mr.  Vialls?" 

"  Yes,  mother,  I  do,  and  every  one  ought  to  who  knoios 
that  he  is  exaggerating,  I  have  heard  this  calumny 
before,  and  I  have  been  told  how  it  has  arisen.  Mr, 
Quarrier  takes  a  glass  of  beer  when  he  is  having  a  long 
country  walk;  and  why  he  shouldn't  quench  his  thirst 
I'm  sure  I  can't  understand." 

"Miss  Mumbray,"  said  the  clergyman,  glaring  at 
her,  yet  affecting  forbearance,  "you  seem  to  forget  that 
our  cottagers  are  not  so  inhospitable  as  to  refuse  a  glass 
of  water  to  the  weary  pedestrian  who  knocks  at  their 
door." 

"  I  don't  forget  it,  Mr.  Vialls,"  replied  Serena,  who 
was  trembling  at  her  own  boldness,  but  found  a  pleasure 
in  persevering.     "And  I  know  very  well  what  sort  of 


198  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

water  one  generally  gets  at  cottages  about  here.  I 
remember  the  family  at  Rickstead  that  died  one  after 
another  of  their  temperance  beverage." 

"Forgive  me!  That  is  not  at  all  to  the  point. 
Granting  that  the  quality  of  the  water  is  suspicious,  are 
there  not  pleasant  little  shops  where  lemonade  can  be 
obtained?  But  no;  it  is  not  merely  to  quench  a 
natural  thirst  that  Mr.  Quarrier  has  recourse  to  those 
pestilent  vendors  of  poison;  the  drinking  of  strong 
liquor  has  become  a  tyrant-habit  with  him." 

"I  deny  it,  Mr.  Vialls!"  exclaimed  the  girl,  almost 
angrily.  (Mrs.  Mumbray  in  vain  tried  to  interpose, 
and  the  other  ladies  present  were  partly  shocked, 
partly  amused,  into  silence.)  "If  so,  then  my  father 
is  a  victim  to  the  habit  of  drink — and  so  is  Mr. 
Welwyn-Baker  himself ! " 

This  was  laying  a  hand  upon  the  Ark.  Mrs.  Mum- 
bray gave  a  little  scream,  and  several  "  Oh's  V  were  heard. 
Mr.  Vialls  shook  his  head  and  smiled  with  grim  sadness. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  I  fear  we  shall  not  understand 
each  other.  I  am  far  from  being  one  of  those  who 
deny  to  ladies  the  logical  faculty,  but " 

"But  you  feel  that  I  am  right,  and  that  party 
prejudice  has  carried  you  too  far!"  interrupted  Serena, 
rising  from  her  chair.  "  I  had  better  go  away,  or  I  shall 
say  disagreeable  things  about  the  Conservatives.  I  am 
not  one  of  them,  and  I  should  like  that  to  be  understood." 

She  walked  quietly  from  the  room,  and  there  ensued 
an  awkward  silence. 

"Poor  Serena!"  breathed  Mrs.  Mumbray,  with  a 
deep  sigh.  "She  has  fallen  under  the  influence  of  Mrs. 
Quarrier — a  most  dangerous  person.  How  such  things 
come  to  pass  I  cannot  understand." 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  199 

Mrs.  Tenterden's  deep  voice  chimed  in: 

"  We  must  certainly  guard  our  young  people  against 
Mrs,  Quarrier.  From  the  look  of  her,  no  one  could  have 
guessed  what  she  would  turn  out.  The  idea  of  so  young 
a  woman  going  to  people's  houses  and  talking  politics ! " 

"  Oh,  I  think  nothing  of  that !  "  remarked  a  lady  who 
particularly  wished  to  remind  the  company  that  she  was 
still  youthful.  "I  canvass  myself;  it's  quite  the  proper 
thing  for  ladies  to  do.  But  I'm  told  she  has  rather  an 
impertinent  way  of  speaking  to  every  one  who  doesn't 
fall  down  and  Avorship  her  hushand." 

"  Mrs.  Lester,"  broke  in  the  grave  voice  of  the  clergy- 
man, "I  trust  you  will  j)ardon  me,  but  you  have 
inadvertently  made  use  of  a  phrase  which  is,  or  should 
be,  consecrated  by  a  religious  significance." 

The  lady  apologized  rather  curtly,  and  Mr.  Vialls 
made  a  stifE  bow. 

At  this  same  moment  the  subject  of  their  conversa- 
tion was  returning  home  from  a  bold  expedition  into 
the  camj)  of  the  enemy.  Encouraged  by  the  personal 
friendliness  that  had  been  shown  her  in  the  family  of 
Mr.  Samuel  Quarrier,  Lilian  conceived  and  nourished  the 
hope  that  it  was  Avithin  her  power  to  convert  the  sturdy 
old  Tory  himself.  Samuel  made  a  joke  of  this,  and 
entertained  himself  with  a  pretence  of  lending  ear  to 
her  arguments.  This  afternoon  he  had  allowed  her  to 
talk  to  him  for  a  long  time.  Lilian's  sweetness  was 
irresistible,  and  she  came  back  in  high  spirits  with 
report  of  progress.  Denzil,  who  had  just  been  badgered 
by  a  deputation  of  voters  who  wished  to  discover  his 
mind  on  seven  points  of  strictly  non-practical  politics, 
listened  with  idle  amusement. 

"Dear  girl,"  he  said  presently,  "the  old  fellow  is 


200  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

fooling  you !  You  can  no  more  convert  him  than  you 
could  the  Dalai-Lama  to  Christianity." 

"  But  he  speaks  quite  seriously,  Denzil  !  He  owns 
that  he  doesn't  like  Beaconsfield,  and  " 

"  Don't  waste  your  time  and  your  patience.  It's 
folly,  I  assure  you.  When  you  are  gone  he  explodes 
with  laughter." 

Lilian  gazed  at  him  for  a  moment  with  wide  eyes, 
then  burst  into  tears. 

"  Good  heavens!  what  is  the  matter  with  you,  Lily  ?  " 
cried  Denzil,  jumping  up.  "  Come,  come,  this  kind  of 
thing  won't  do!  You  are  overtaxing  yourself.  You 
are  getting  morbidly  excited." 

It  was  true  enough,  and  Lilian  was  herself  conscious 
of  it,  but  she  obeyed  an  impulse  from  which  there  seemed 
no  way  of  escape.  Her  conscience  and  her  fears  would 
not  leave  her  at  peace;  every  now  and  then  she  found 
herself  starting  at  unusual  sounds,  trembling  in  mental 
agitation  if  any  one  aj)proached  her  with  an  unwonted 
look,  dreading  the  arrival  of  the  post,  the  sight  of  a 
newspaper,  faces  in  the  street.  Then  she  hastened  to 
the  excitement  of  canvassing,  as  another  might  have 
turned  to  more  vulgar  stimulants.  Certainly  her  health 
had  suffered.  She  could  not  engage  in  quiet  study, 
still  less  could  rest  her  mind  in  solitary  musing,  as  in 
the  old  days. 

Denzil  seated  himself  by  her  on  the  sofa. 

"  If  you  are  to  suffer  in  this  way,  little  girl,  I  shall 
repent  sorely  that  ever  I  went  in  for  politics." 

"  How  absurd  of  me !  I  can't  think  why  I  behave 
so  ridiculously ! " 

But  still  she  sobbed,  resting  her  head  against  him. 

"I   have   an   idea,"  he    said    at    length,    rendered 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  201 

clairvoyant  by  his  affection,  "  that  after  next  week  you 
will  feel  much  easier  in  your  mind." 

"  After  next  week  ?  " 

"  Yes;  when  Glazzard  is  married  and  gone  away." 

She  would  not  confess  that  lie  was  right,  but  her 
denials  strengthened  his  surmise. 

"  I  can  j)erfectly  understand  it,  Lily.  It  certainly 
was  unfortunate;  and  if  it  had  been  any  one  but  Glaz- 
zard, I  might  myself  have  been  wishing  the  man  away. 
But  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  Glazzard  would  not 
breathe  a  syllable." 

"  Not  even  to  his  wife  ?  "  she  whispered. 

"Not  even  to  her  I  I  assure  you" — he  smiled — 
"  men  have  no  difficulty  in  keeping  important  secrets, 
Samson  notwithstanding.  Glazzard  would  think  him- 
self for  ever  dishonoured.  But  in  a  week's  time  they 
will  be  gone;  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  they  remain 
abroad  for  years.  So  brighten  up,  dearest  dear,  and  leave 
Sam  alone;  he's  a  cynical  old  fellow,  past  hope  of 
mending  his  ways.  See  more  of  Molly;  she  does  you 
good-  And,  by-the-bye,  it's  time  you  called  on  the 
Catesbys.     They  will  always  be  very  glad  to  see  you." 

This  family  of  Catesby  Avas  one  of  the  few  really 
distinguished  in  the  neighbourhood.  Colonel  Catesby, 
a  long-retired  warrior,  did  not  mingle  much  with  local 
society,  but  with  his  wife  and  daughter  he  had  appeared 
at  Denzil's  first  jjolitical  dinner;  they  all  "took  to" 
their  hostess,  and  had  since  manifested  this  liking  in 
sundry  pleasant  ways. 

Indeed,  Lilian  was  become  a  social  success — that 
is  to  say,  with  peoj^le  who  were  at  all  capable  of  ap- 
preciating her.  Herein,  as  in  other  things,  she  had 
agreeably  surprised  Denzil.     He  had  resigned  himself 


202  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

to  seeing  her  remain  a  loving,  intelligent,  but  very  un- 
ambitious woman;  of  a  sudden  she  proved  equal  to  all 
the  social  claims  connected  with  his  candidature— 
unless  the  efforts,  greater  than  appeared,  were  under- 
mining her  health.  Having  learned  to  trust  herself  in 
conversation,  she  talked  with  a  delightful  blending  of 
seriousness  and  gentle  merriment.  Her  culture  de- 
clared itself  in  every  thought;  there  was  much  within 
the  ordinary  knowledge  of  people  trained  to  the  world 
that  she  did  not  know,  but  the  simplicity  resulting  from 
this  could  never  be  confused  with  want  of  education  or 
of  tact.  When  the  Catesbys  made  it  evident  that  tli^y 
approved  her,  Quarrier  rejoiced  exceedingly;  he  was 
flattered  in  his  deepest  sensibilities,  and  felt  that  hence- 
forth nothing  essential  would  be  wanting  to  his 
happiness — whether  Polterham  returned  him  or  not. 

That  he  would  be  returned,  he  had  no  doubt.  The 
campaign  proceeded  gloriously.  Whilst  Mr.  Gladstone 
flowed  on  for  ever  in  Midlothian  rhetoric,  Denzil  lost  no 
opportunity  of  following  his  leader,  and  was  often  as- 
tonished at  the  ease  with  which  he  harangued  as  long  as 
Polterham  patience  would  endure  him.  To  get  up  and 
make  a  two  hours'  speech  no  longer  cost  him  the  least 
effort;  he  played  with  the  stock  subjects  of  eloquence, 
sported  among  original  jokes  and  catch-words,  burned 
through  perorations  with  the  joy  of  an  imj^rovisatore  in 
hajjjDiest  mood.  The  Examine?'  could  not  report  him  for 
lack  of  space;  the  Mercury  complained  of  a  headache 
caused  by  this  "  blatant  youthfulness  striving  to 
emulate  garrulous  senility " — a  phrase  which  moved 
Denzil  to  outrageous  laughter.  And  on  the  whole  he 
kej)t  well  within  such  limits  of  opinion  as  Polterham 
approved.     Now  and  then  Mr.  Chown  felt  moved  by 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  203 

the  spirit  to  interrogate  him  as  to  the  "  scope  and  bear- 
ing and  significance "  of  an  over-bokl  expression,  but 
the  Radical  section  was  too  delighted  with  a  prospect  of 
victory  to  indulge  in  "  heckling,"  and  the  milder  Pro- 
gressives considered  their  candidate  as  a  man  of  whom 
Polterham  might  be  proud,  a  man  pretty  sure  to 
"  make  his  mark  "  at  Westminster. 

In  the  hostile  ranks  there  was  a  good  deal  of  loud 
talk  and  frequent  cheering,  but  the  speeches  were  in 
general  made  by  lieutenants,  and  the  shouts  seemed 
intended  to  make  up  for  the  defective  eloquence  of 
thfir  chief.  Mr.  Welwyn-Baker  was  too  old  and  too 
stout  and  too  shaky  for  the  toil  of  personal  electioneer- 
ing. He  gave  a  few  dinners  at  his  big  house  three 
miles  away,  and  he  addressed  (laconically)  one  or  two 
select  meetings;  for  the  rest,  his  name  and  fame  had  to 
suffice.  There  was  no  convincing  him  that  his  seat 
could  possibly  be  in  danger.  He  smiled  urbanely  over 
the  reports  of  Quarrier's  speeches,  called  his  adversary 
"a  sharp  lad,"  and  continued  through  all  the  excite- 
ment of  the  borough  to  conduct  himself  with  this 
amiable  fatuity. 

"  I  vow  and  protest,"  said  Mr.  Mumbray,  in  a  con- 
fidential ear,  "that  if  it  weren't  for  the  look  of  the 
thing,  I  would  withhold  my  vote  altogether !  A¥.-B.  is 
in  his  dotage.  And  to  think  that  we  might  have  put 
new  life  into  the  party !     Bah !  " 

Conservative  canvassers  did  not  fail  to  make  use  of 
the  fact  that  Mr.  Welwyn-Baker  had  always  been 
regardful  of  the  poor.  His  alms-houses  were  so 
pleasantly  situated  and  so  tastefully  designed  that 
many  Polterham  people  wished  they  were  for  lease  on 
ordinary  terms.     The   Infirmary  was  indebted   to  his 


204  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

aunual  beneficence,  and  the  Union  had  to  thank  him — 
especially  through  this  past  winter — for  a  lightening  of 
its  burden.  Aware  of  these  things,  Lilian  never  felt 
able  to  speak  harshly  against  the  old  Tory.  In  theory 
she  acknowledged  that  the  relief  of  a  few  families  could 
not  weigh  against  principles  which  enslaved  a  whole  pop- 
ulation (thus  Quarrier  put  it),  but  her  heart  pleaded  for 
the  man  who  allayed  suffering  at  his  gates ;  and  could 
Mr.  Chowii  have  heard  the  admissions  she  made  to 
Welwyn-Baker's  advocates,  he  would  have  charged  her 
with  criminal  weakness,  if  not  with  secret  treachery. 
She  herself  had  as  yet  been  able  to  do  very  little  for  flie 
poor  of  the  town;  with  the  clergy  she  had  no  intimate 
relations  (church-going  was  for  her  and  Denzil  only  a 
politic  conformity);  and  Polterham  was  not  large 
enough  to  call  for  the  organization  of  special  efforts. 
But  her  face  invited  the  necessitous;  in  the  by-ways 
she  had  been  appealed  to  for  charity,  with  results  which 
became  known  among  people  inclined  to  beg.  So  it 
happened  that  she  was  one  day  led  on  a  benevolent 
mission  into  the  ]30orest  part  of  the  town,  and  had  an 
opportunity  of  indulging  her  helpful  instincts. 

This  was  in  the  afternoon.  Between  nine  and  ten 
that  evening,  as  Denzil  and  she  sat  together  in  the 
library  (for  once  they  were  alone  and  at  peace),  a 
servant  informed  her  that  Mrs.  Wade  wished  to  speak 
for  a  moment  on  urgent  business.  She  went  out  and 
found  her  friend  in  the  drawing-room. 

"  Can  you  give  me  a  few  minutes  ?  " 

"As  long  as  ever  you  like!  No  one  is  here,  for  a 
wonder.  Do  you  wish  to  talk  privately,  or  will  you 
come  into  the  study  ?    We  were  sitting  there." 

"It's  only  politics." 


DENZIL  QUAERIER  205 

"  Oh.,  then  come." 

Quarrier  would  rather  have  been  left  in  quiet  over  the 
proof-sheets  of  his  book — it  was  already  going  through 
the  press — but  he  welcomed  the  visitor  with  customary 
friendliness. 

"  Capital  speech  of  Hartington's  yesterday." 

"  Very  good  answer  to  Cross.  What  do  you  think  of 
John  Bright  and  the  licensed  victuallers  ?  " 

"Oh/'  laughed  Denzil,  "he'll  have  to  talk  a  good 
deal  before  he  persuades  them  that  temperance  is  money 
in  their  pockets!  I  don't  see  the  good  of  that  well- 
intentioned  sophistry.  But  then,  you  know,  I  belong 
to  the  habitual  drunkards!  You  have  heard  that 
Scatchard  Vialls  so  represents  me  to  all  and  sundry  ?  " 

"  I  should  proceed  against  him  for  slander." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  think  it  does  me  good.  All  the 
honest  topers  will  rally  to  me,  and  the  sober  Liberals 
will  smile  indulgently.  Sir  Wilfred  Lawson  would 
long  ago  have  been  stamped  out  as  a  bore  of  the  first 
magnitude  but  for  his  saving  humour." 

Mrs.  Wade  presently  made  known  her  business;  but 
with  a  preface  which  disturbed  the  nerves  of  both  her 
listeners. 

"  The  enemy  have  a  graver  charge  against  you.  I 
happened,  an  hour  ago,  to  catch  a  most  alarming 
rumour.  Mr.  Quarrier,  your  wife  will  be  your 
ruin ! " 

Notwithstanding  the  tone  of  burlesque,  Lilian  turned 
pale,  and  Quarrier  stood  frowning.  Mrs.  Wade  exa- 
mined them  both,  her  bright  eyes  glancing  quickly 
from  one  face  to  the  other  and  back  again.  She  did 
not  continue,  until  Quarrier  exclaimed  impatiently : 

"  What  is  it  now  ?  " 


206  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"Nothing  less  than  an  accusation  of  bribery  and 
corruption." 

Eelief  was  audible  in  Denzil's  laugh. 

"It's  reported,"  Mrs.  Wade  went  on,  "that  Mrs. 
Quarrier  has  been  distributing  money — money  in  hand- 
fuls,  through  half-a-dozen  streets  down  by  the  river." 

"  You   don't   really   mean " began    Lilian,   who 

could  not  even  yet  quite  command  her  voice. 

"It's  positively  going  about!  I  thought  it  my  duty 
to  come  and  tell  you  at  once.     What  is  the  foundation  ?  " 

"  I  warned  you,  Lily,"  said  Denzil,  good-humouredly. 
"  The  fact  is,  Mrs.  Wade,  she  gave  half-a-crown  to 
some  old  woman  in  Water  Lane  this  afternoon.  It  was 
imprudent,  of  course.     Who  told  you  about  it  ?  " 

"Mr.  Rook,  the  stationer.  It  was  talked  of  up  and 
down  High  Street,  he  assures  me.  We  may  laugh,  but 
this  kind  of  misrepresentation  goes  a  long  way." 

"  Let  the  blackguards  make  the  most  of  it ! "  cried 
Quarrier.  "  I  have  as  good  things  in  store  for  them. 
One  of  Jobson's  workmen  told  me  this  morning  that 
he  and  his  fellows  were  being  distinctly  intimidated; 
Jobson  has  told  them  several  times  that  if  the  Radicals 
won,  work  would  be  scarce,  and  that  the  voters  would 
have  only  themselves  to  thank  for  it.  And  Thomas 
Barker  has  been  promising  lowered  rents  at  Lady-day." 

"But  who  could  have  told  such  falsehoods  about 
me  ?  "  asked  Lilian. 

"  Some  old  woman  who  didn't  get  the  half-crown,  no 
doubt,"  replied  Mrs.  Wade. 

"  Those  poor  creatures  I  went  to  see  have  no  vote." 

"  Oh,  but  handf uls  of  money,  you  know !  It's  the 
impression  made  on  the  neighbourhood.  Seriously, 
they  are  driven  to  desperate  resources;   and  I  believe 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  207 

there  is  a  good  deal  of  intimidation  going  on — especially 
on  the  part  of  district-visitors.  Mrs.  Alexander  told 
me  of  several  instances.  And  the  wives  (of  course)  are 
such  wretched  cowards!  That  great  big  carpenter, 
East,  is  under  his  wife's  thumb,  and  she  has  been 
imploring  him  not  to  vote  Liberal  for  fear  of 
consequences — she  sits  weeping,  and  talking  about  the 
workhouse.  Contemptible  idiot!  It  would  gratify  me 
extremely  to  see  her  really  going  to  the  workhouse." 

"  And  pray,"  asked  Denzil,  with  a  laugh,  "  what  would 
be  the  result  of  giving  the  franchise  to  such  women  ?  " 

"  The  result  might  be  that,  iu  time  to  come,  there 
wouldn't  be  so  many  of  them." 

"  In  time  to  come — possibly.  In  the  meanwhile, 
send  their  girls  to  school  to  learn  a  wholesome  contempt 
for  their  mothers." 

'^ Oh,  Denzil!" 

"  Well,  it  sounds  brutal,  but  it's  very  good  sense.  All 
progress  involves  disagreeable  necessities." 

Mrs.  AVade  was  looking  about  the  room,  smiling, 
absent.     She  rose  abruptly. 

"  I  mustn't  spoil  your  one  quiet  evening.  How  do  the 
proofs  go  on  ?  " 

"  Would  you  care  to  take  a  batch  of  them  ? "  asked 
Quarrier.  "  These  are  revises — you  might  be  able  to 
make  a  useful  suggestion." 

She  hesitated,  but  at  length  held  out  her  hand. 

"  You  have  rather  a  long  walk,"  said  Lilian.  "  I  hope 
it's  fine." 

"No;  it  drizzles." 

"  Oh,  how  kind  of  you  to  take  so  much  trouble  on 
our  account  ! " 

Mrs,  Wade  went  out  into  the  darkness.    It  was  as 


208  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

disagreeable  a  night  as  the  time  of  year  could  produce; 
black  overhead,  slimy  under  foot,  with  a  cold  wind 
to  dash  the  colder  rain  in  one's  face.  The  walk  home 
took  more  than  half  an  hour,  and  she  entered  her  cottage 
much  fatigued.  Without  speaking  to  the  girl  who 
admitted  her,  she  went  upstairs  to  take  off  her  out-of- 
door  things;  on  coming  down  to  the  sitting-room,  she 
found  her  lamp  lit,  her  fire  burning,  and  supper  on  the 
table — a  glass  of  milk  and  some  slices  of  bread  and 
butter.  Her  friends  would  have  felt  astonishment  and 
compassion  had  they  learned  how  plain  and  slight  was 
the  fare  that  supported  her;  only  by  reducing  her 
household  exj)enditure  to  the  strict  minimum  could  she 
afford  to  dress  in  the  manner  of  a  lady,  supply  herself 
with  a  few  paj^ers  and  books,  and  keep  up  the  appear- 
ances without  which  it  is  difficult  to  enjoy  any  society 
at  all. 

To-night  she  ate  and  drank  with  a  bitter  sense  of  her 
poverty  and  loneliness.  Before  her  mind's  eye  was  the 
picture  of  Denzil  Quarrier's  study — its  luxury,  bright- 
ness, wealth  of  volumes;  and  Denzil's  face  made  an 
inseparable  part  of  the  scene.  That  face  had  never 
ceased  to  occupy  her  imagination  since  the  evening  of 
his  lecture  at  the  Institute.  Its  haunting  power  was 
always  greatest  when  she  sat  here  alone  in  the  stillness. 
This  little  room,  in  which  she  had  known  the  pleasures 
of  independence  and  retirement,  seemed  now  but  a 
prison.  It  was  a  mean  dwelling,  fit  only  for  labouring 
folk;  the  red  blind  irritated  her  sight,  and  she  had  to 
turn  away  from  it. 

What  a  hope  had  come  to  her  of  a  sudden  last 
autumn !  How  recklessly  she  had  indulged  it,  and  how 
the  disappointment  rankled  I 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  209 

A  disappointment  which  she  could  not  accept  with 
the  resignation  due  to  fate.  At  first  she  had  done  so; 
but  then  a  singuLar  surmise  crept  into  her  thoughts — 
a  suspicion  which  came  she  knew  not  whence — and 
thereafter  was  no  rest  from  fantastic  suggestions.  Her 
surmise  did  not  remain  baseless;  evidence  of  undeniable 
strength  came  to  its  support,  yet  all  was  so  vague — so 
unserviceable. 

She  opened  the  printed  sheets  that  Quarrier  had 
given  her  and  for  a  few  minutes  read  with  interest. 
Then  her  eyes  and  thouglits  wandered. 

Her  servant  knocked  and  entered,  asking  if  she 
should  remove  the  supper-tray.  In  looking  up  at  the 
girl,  Mrs.  Wade  noticed  red  eyes  and  other  traces  of 
weeping. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  she  asked,  sharply.  "  Have 
you  any  news  ?  " 

The  girl  answered  with  a  faltering  negative.  She, 
too,  had  her  unhappy  story.  A  Polterham  mechanic 
who  made  love  to  her  lost  his  employment,  went  to 
London  with  hopes  and  promises,  and  now  for  more 
than  half  a  year  had  given  no  sign  of  his  existence. 
Mrs.  Wade  had  been  wont  to  speak  sympathetically  on 
the  subject,  but  to-uight  it  excited  her  anger. 

"Don't  be  such  a  simpleton,  Annie!  If  only  you 
knew  anything  of  life,  you  would  be  glad  of  what  has 
happened.  You  are  free  again,  and  freedom  is  the  one 
thing  in  the  world  wortli  having.  To  sit  and  cry 
because — I'm  ashamed  of  you!  " 

Surprise  and  misery  caused  the  tears  to  break  forth 
again. 

"  Go  to  bed,  and  go  to  sleep ! "  said  the  mistress, 
harshly.     "  If  ever  you  arc  married,  you'll  remember 


210  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

what  I  said,  and  look  back  to  the  time  when  you  knew 
nothing  worse  than  silly  girlish  troubles.  Have  you 
no  pride  ?  It's  girls  like  you  that  make  men  think  so 
lightly  of  all  women — despise  us — say  we  are  unfit  for 
anything  but  cooking  and  cradle-rocking !  If  you  go  on 
in  this  way  you  must  leave  me;  I  won't  have  a  silly, 
moping  creature  before  my  eyes,  to  make  me  lose  all 
patience ! " 

The  girl  took  up  the  tray  and  hurried  off.  Her 
mistress  sat  till  late  in  the  night,  now  reading  a  page  of 
the  proofs,  now  brooding  with  dark  countenance. 


XIX 

The  polling  would  take  place  on  the  last  day  of  March. 
On  the  day  previous  to  that  of  nomination  Glazzard  and 
Serena  Mumbray  were  to  be  married.  Naturally,  not 
at  Mr.  Vialls'  church;  they  made  choice  of  St.  Luke's, 
which  was  blessed  with  a  mild,  intellectual  incumbent. 
Mrs.  Mumbray,  consistently  obstinate  on  this  one  point, 
refused  to  be  present  at  the  ceremony. 

"  There  will  be  no  need  of  me,"  she  said  to  Serena. 
"  Since  you  choose  to  be  married  as  if  you  were  ashamed 
of  it,  your  father's  presence  will  be  quite  enough.  I 
have  always  looked  forward  to  very  different  things; 
but  when  were  my  wishes  and  hopes  consulted  ?  I  am 
not  angry  with  you;  we  shall  part  on  perfectly  good 
terms,  and  I  shall  wish  you  every  happiness.  I  hope 
to  hear  from  you  occasionally.  But  I  cannot  be  a  wit- 
ness of  what  I  so  strongly  disapprove." 

William  Glazzard — who  saw  nothing  amiss  in  his 
brother's  choice  of  a  wife,  and  was  greatly  relieved  by 
the  thought  of  Serena's  property — would  readily  have 
gone  to  the  church,  but  it  was  decided,  in  deference  to 
the  bride's  wish,  that  Ivy  should  come  in  his  stead. 

Ivy  had  felt  herself  neglected  lately.  Since  the 
announcement  that  her  uncle  Eustace  was  to  marry 
Serena,  she  had  seen  very  little  of  the  friend  with  whom 


212  DENZIL  QUAERIER 

alone  she  could  enjoy  intimate  converse.  But  on  the 
eve  of  the  wedding-day  they  spent  an  hour  or  two  to- 
gether in  Serena's  room.  Both  were  in  a  quiet  mood, 
thoughtful  rather  than  talkative. 

"This  day  week/'  said  Serena,  breaking  a  long 
silence,  "  I  shall  be  somewhere  in  Sicily — perhaps  look- 
ing at  Mount  Etna.  The  change  comes  none  too  soon. 
I  was  getting  into  a  thoroughly  bad  state  of  mind. 
Before  long  you  would  have  refused  to  associate  with 
me." 

"  I  think  not,  dear." 

"  If  not,  then  I  should  have  done  you  harm — and  that 
would  be  a  burden  on  my  conscience.  I  had  begun  to 
feel  a  pleasure  in  saying  and  doing  things  that  I  be- 
lieved to  be  wrong.     You  never  had  that  feeling  ?  " 

Ivy  looked  up  with  wonder  in  her  gentle,  dreamy 
eyes. 

"  It  must  be  very  strange." 

"  I  have  thought  about  it,  and  I  believe  it  comes  from 
ignorance.  You  know,  perhaps  what  I  said  and  did 
wasn't  really  wrong,  after  all — if  one  only  under- 
stood." 

The  listener  was  puzzled. 

"But  we  won't  talk  about  it.  Before  long  I  shall 
understand  so  many  things,  and  then  you  shall  have  the 
benefit  of  my  exj^erience.  I  believe  I  am  going  to  be 
very  happy." 

It  was  said  as  if  on  a  sudden  impulse,  with  a  tremu- 
lous movement  of  the  body. 

"I  hope  and  believe  so,  dear,"  replied  the  other, 
warmly. 

"And  you — I  don't  like  to  think  of  you  being  so 
much  alone.     There's  a  piece  of  advice  I  should  like 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  213 

to  give  you.  Try  and  make  friends  with  Mrs. 
Quarrier." 

"  Mrs.  Quarrier  ?  " 

"  Yes — I  have  a  good  reason — I  think  she  would  suit 
you  exactly.  I  had  a  long  talk  with  her  about  a  fort- 
night ago,  and  she  seemed  to  me  very  nice — nicer  than 
any  one  I  have  ever  known,  except  you.'' 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  " 

"Make  one.  Go  and  see  her,  and  ask  her  to  come 
and  see  you." 

They  fell  again  into  musing,  and  the  rest  of  their 
talk  was  mainly  about  the  arrangements  for  the 
morrow. 

About  the  time  that  Ivy  Glazzard  was  going  home, 
her  uncle  left  Polterham  by  train.  He  travelled  some 
thirty  miles,  and  alighted  at  a  large  station,  which, 
even  thus  late,  was  full  of  noise  and  bustle.  After 
drinking  a  cup  of  coffee  in  the  refreshment-room,  he 
crossed  to  another  platform,  and  then  paced  up  and 
down  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  until  the  ringing  of  a 
bell  gave  notice  that  a  train  which  he  awaited  was  just 
arriving.  It  steamed  into  the  station,  and  Glazzard's 
eye,  searching  among  the  passengers  who  got  out, 
quickly  recognized  a  tall,  thin  figure. 

"  So,  here  you  are,"  he  said,  holding  his  hand  to 
Northway,  who  smiled  doubtfully,  and  peered  at  him 
with  sleepy  eyes.  "  1  have  a  room  at  the  station  hotel 
— come  along." 

They  were  presently  at  their  ease  in  a  sitting-room, 
with  a  hot  supper  on  the  table.  Northway  ate  heartily ; 
his  entertainer  with  less  gusto,  though  he  looked  in 
excellent  spirits,  and  talked  much  of  the  impending 
elections.      The  meal   dismissed,  Glazzard  lit  a  cigar 


214  DENZIL  QUABRIER 

(Northway  did  not  smoke)  and  broached  the  topic  of 
their  meeting. 

"  Now,  what  I  am  going  to  propose  to  you  may  seem 
disagreeable.  I  take  it  for  granted  that  we  deal  honour- 
aialy — for  my  own  purpose  is  nothing  to  be  ashamed 
of;  and  if,  after  hearing  what  I  ask,  you  don't  care 
to  undertake  it,  say  so  at  once,  and  there's  no  harm 
done." 

"  Well,  let  me  know  what  it  is  ? "  replied  the  other, 
plucking  at  his  throat. 

"  Plainly  then,  I  am  engaged  in  election  work.  My 
motives  are  political." 

"Oh!" 

"The  man  of  whom  we  spoke  the  other  day  is 
standing  as  candidate  for  a  borough  not  very  far 
from  here— not  this  town.  Not  long  ago  I  discovered 
that  secret  of  his  private  life.  I  am  going  to  use  it 
against  him— to  floor  him  with  this  disgrace.  You 
understand  ?  " 

"  Which  side  is  he  ?  " 

"  Liberal.  But  to  a  man  of  your  large  views,  that  of 
course  makes  no  diiference." 

"  Not  a  bit ! "  Northway  replied,  obviously  flattered. 
"  You  are  a  Conservative,  then  ?  " 

"Yes;  I  am  Conservative.  I  think  (as  I  am  sure 
yoii  do)  that  Liberalism  is  a  mere  name,  used  for  the 
most  part  by  men  who  want  to  make  tools  of  the 
people." 

"Yes,  I  agree  with  that,"  said  Northway,  putting 
his  head  aside  and  drawing  in  his  cheeks. 

Glazzard  repressed  a  smile,  and  smoked  for  a 
moment. 

"What  I  want  you  to  do,"  he  continued,  "is  this. 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  215 

To-morrow,  by  an  early  train,  you  will  go  down  to  this 
borough  I  speak  of.  You  will  find  your  way  to  the 
Court-house,  and  will  get  leave  to  make  an  appeal  for 
the  magistrate's  advice.  When  you  come  forward,  you 
will  say  that  your  wife  has  deserted  you— that  a  friend 
of  yours  has  seen  her  in  that  town,  and  has  discovered 
that  she  has  committed  bigamy — that  you  wish  for  the 
magistrate's  help— his  advice  how  to  take  proceedings. 
And,  finally,  you  Avill  state  in  a  particularly  clear  voice 
that  your  wife  is  Mrs.  So-and-so,  illegally  married  to 
Mr.  So-and-so,  Liberal  candidate." 

He  spoke  in  hurrying  accents,  and  as  he  ceased  the 
cigar  fell  from  his  fingers. 

"  But  I  thought  you  said  that  they  weren't  married 
at  all?" 

"They  are  not.  But  you  mustn't  know  it.  Your 
friend — who  informed  you  (say  it  was  a  man  casually 
in  the  town,  a  commercial  traveller,  who  knew  your 
wife  formerly  by  sight) — took  it  for  granted  they  were 
married.  If  you  knew  she  had  not  broken  the  law, 
you  would  have  no  excuse  for  going  into  Court,  you 
see." 

Northway  pondered  the  matter,  clicking  with  his 
tongue. 

"  You  remember,  I  hope,"  pursued  Glazzard,  "  all  I 
told  you  at  Clifton  about  the  position  of  these  people  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  remember.  How  long  have  they  been 
together  ?  " 

"About  two  years." 

"Has  she  a  child?" 

"No.  Now,  are  you  disposed  to  serve  me?  If  you 
consent,  you  will  gain  the  knowledge  of  your  wife's 
whereabouts  and  the  reward  I  promised — which  I  shall 


216  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

pay  now.  If  you  take  the  money  and  then  spoil  my 
scheme,  you  will  find  it  has  been  useless  dishonesty. 
To-morrow,  in  any  case,  the  facts  will  be  made 
public." 

Northway  glanced  at  him  ill-humouredly. 

"  You  needn't  be  so  anxious  about  my  honesty,  Mr. 
Marks.  But  I  should  like  to  be  made  a  little  surer  that 
you  have  been  telling  me  the  truth.  How  do  I  know 
that  my  wife  is  really  living  as  you  say  ?  It  seems  to 
me  I  ought  to  have  a  sight  of  her  before  I  go  talking  to 
magistrates." 

Glazzard  reflected. 

"Nobody,"  j)ursued  the  other,  "would  make  such  a 
charge  just  on  hearsay  evidence.  It  would  only  be 
common  sense  for  me  to  see  her  first." 

"That  objection  is  reasonable.  If  you  knew  how 
well-assured  I  am  of  this  lady's  identity,  you  would 
understand  why  your  view  of  the  matter  never  occurred 
to  me.  You  must  say  that  you  liave  seen  her,  that's 
all — seen  her  coming  out  of  her  house." 

But  Northway  was  still  unsatisfied.  He  desired  to 
know  how  it  was  that  a  public  man  had  succeeded  in 
deceiving  all  his  friends  in  such  an  affair  as  that  of 
his  marriage,  and  put  various  other  questions,  which 
reminded  Glazzard  how  raw  a  hand  he  was  at  elaborate 
artifice.  Whilst  the  discussion  was  going  on.  North- 
way  took  from  his  pocket  an  envelope,  and  from  the 
envelope  drew  a  small  j)hotograph. 

"You  showed  me  one  the  other  day,"  he  said. 
"  Now,  do  you  recognize  that  ?  " 

"Undoubtedly.  That  is  Miss  Lilian  Allen — four 
years  ago,  I  dare  say." 

"H'm  !  not  a  bad  guess.     It's  four  years  old,  as  near 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  217 

as  can  be.  I  see  you  know  all  about  her,  though  how 
you  found  out  I  can't  understand,  unless  she  " 

He  paused,  peering  at  Glazzard  suspiciously. 

"  It  doesn't  matter  how  I  learnt  what  I  know,"  said 
the  latter,  in  a  peremptory  tone.  "  Let  us  stick  to  the 
point.  It's  lucky  you  have  brought  this  carte-de- 
visite;  it  Avill  enable  you  to  assure  yourself,  before 
going  to  the  Court-house,  that  you  are  not  being  fooled. 
As  soon  as  you  land  in  the  town,  ask  your  way  to  the 
shop  of  a  bookseller  called  Eidge  (make  a  note  of  the 
name) — tell  Mr.  Ridge  that  you  have  found  a  pocket- 
book  with  that  photograph  in  it,  and  ask  him  if  he  can 
help  you  to  identify  the  person.  You'll  hear  his 
answer.  And  in  this  way,  by-the-bye,  you  could 
dispense  with  telling  the  magistrate  that  you  have  seen 
your  wife.  Produce  the  portrait  in  court,  and  declare 
that  it  has  been  recognized  by  people  in  the  town." 

Northway  appeared  content. 

"Well,  that  sounds  better.  And  what  am  I  to  do 
after  speaking  to  the  magistrate  ?  " 

"  I  should  advise  you  to  have  an  interview  with  the 
man  himself,  the  Liberal  candidate,  and  ask  him  how 
it  happens  that  your  wife  is  living  with  him.  In  that 
way — when  he  learns  what  step  you  have  already  taken 
— you  will  no  doubt  get  hold  of  the  truth.  And  then," 
he  smiled,  "  you  can  spend  the  rest  of  the  day  in  con- 
tradicting your  statement  that  Mrs.  So-and-so  has 
committed  bigamy;  making  it  known  that  she  is  merely 
a  counterfeit  wife." 

"  Making  known  to  whom  ?  " 

Glazzard  laughed. 

"  Why,  to  the  hundreds  of  people  who  will  crowd 
about  you.      My  dear  sir,  you  will  be  the  most  im- 


2d^  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

portant  person  in  the  town  !  You  will  turn  an 
election — overthrow  the  hopes  of  a  party  !  Don't  you 
want  to  know  the  taste  oiiiowerf  Won't  it  amuse  you 
to  think,  and  to  remember,  that  in  the  elections  of  1880 
you  exercised  an  influence  beyond  that  of  Gladstone 
or  Beacousfield  ?  It's  the  wish  for  power  that  excites 
all  this  uproar  throughout  the  country.  I  myself,  now — 
do  you  think  I  am  a  political  agent  just  for  the  money 
it  brings  me?  No,  no;  but  because  I  have  delight  in 
ruling  men  !  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  you  have  it  in  you 
to  become  a  leader  in  your  way,  and  some  day  you'll 
remember  my  words." 

Northway  opened  his  eyes  very  wide,  and  with  a 
look  of  gratification. 

"  You  think  I'm  cut  out  for  that  kind  of  thing  ?  " 

"Judging  from  what  I  have  heard  of  your  talk. 
But  not  in  England,  you  understand.  Try  one  of  the 
new  countries,  where  the  popular  cause  goes  ahead 
more  boldly.     You're  young  enough  yet." 

The  listener  mused,  smiling  in  a  self-conscious  way 
that  obliged  Glazzard  to  avert  his  face  for  a  moment 
lest  he  should  betray  contemptuous  amusement. 

"  Shall  you  be  there— in  that  town — to-morrow  ?  " 
asked  the  young  man. 

"No,  I  have  business  in  quite  another  part.  That 
election,"  he  added,  with  an  air  of  importance,  "is  not 
the  only  one  I  am  looking  after." 

There  was  silence,  then  Glazzard  continued : 

"  It's  indifferent  to  me  whether  it  comes  out  that  / 
planned  this  stratagem,  or  not.  Still,  in  the  interests 
of  my  party,  I  admit  that  I  had  rather  it  were  kept 
quiet.  So  I'll  tell  you  what.  If,  in  a  month's  time,  I 
find  that  you  have  kept  the  secret,  you  shall  receive  at 


DENZIL   QUAERIER  ^9 

any  address  you  like  a  second  five-pound  note.  It's 
just  as  you  please.  Of  course,  if  you  think  you  can  get 
more  by  bargaining  with  the  Liberals — but  I  doubt 
whether  the  secret  will  be  worth  anything  after  the 
explosion." 

"All  right.  I'll  give  you  an  address,  so  that  if  you 
keep  in  the  same  mind" 

He  mentioned  it.     And  Glazzard  made  a  note. 

"  Then  we  strike  a  bargain,  Mr.  Northway  ?  " 

''  Yes,  I'll  go  through  with  it,"  was  the  deliberate 
reply. 

"  Very  well.     Then  you  shall  have  the  particulars." 

Thereupon  Glazzard  made  known  the  names  he  had 
kept  in  reserve.  Northway  jotted  them  down  on  the 
back  of  an  envelope,  his  hand  rather  unsteady. 

"  There's  a  train  to  Polterham,"  said  Glazzard,  "  at 
nine  o'clock  in  the  morning.  You'll  be  there  by  ten — 
see  Ridge  the  bookseller,  and  be  at  the  Court-house  in 
convenient  time.  I  know  there's  a  sitting  to-morrow; 
and  on  the  second  day  after  comes  out  the  Polterham 
Tory  paper.  You  will  prepare  them  such  an  item  of 
news  in  their  police  reports  as  they  little  look  for.  By 
that  time  the  whole  truth  will  be  known,  of  course,  and 
Mr.  Quarrier's  candidature  will  be  impossible." 

"  What  will  the  Liberals  do  ?  " 

"  I  can't  imagine.  We  shall  look  on  and  enjoy  the 
situation — unprecedented,  I  should  think." 

Northway  again  smiled ;  he  seemed  to  enter  into  the 
jest. 

"  You  sleep  here,"  said  Glazzard.  "  Your  expenses 
are  paid.  I'll  take  leave  of  you  now,  and  I  shan't  see 
you  again,  as  I  have  to  leave  by  the  3.40  up-train." 

The    money  he  had    promised    was   transferred  to 


220  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

Northway's  pocket,  and  they  shook  hands  with  much 
friendliness. 

Glazzard  quitted  the  hotel.  His  train  back  to 
Polterham  left  at  1.14,  and  it  was  past  midnight. 

He  went  into  the  station,  now  quiet  and  deserted. 
A  footstep  occasionally  echoed  under  the  vault,  or  a 
Toice  sounded  from  a  distance.  The  gas  was  lowered; 
out  at  either  end  gleamed  the  coloured  signal-lights, 
and  above  them  a  few  faint  stars. 

It  was  bitterly  cold.  Glazzard  began  to  walk  up  and 
down,  his  eyes  straying  vaguely.  He  felt  a  miserable 
sinking  of  the  heart,  a  weariness  as  if  after  great 
exertion. 

An  engine  came  rolling  slowly  along  one  of  the  lines ; 
it  stopped  just  beyond  the  station,  and  then  backed  into 
a  siding.  There  followed  the  thud  of  carriage  against 
carriage :  a  train  was  being  made  up.  He  went  to  watch 
the  operation.  The  clang  of  metal,  the  hiss  of  steam, 
the  moving  about  of  men  with  lanterns  held  his 
attention  for  some  time,  and  so  completely  that  'he 
forgot  all  else. 

Somewhere  far  away  sounded  a  long-drawn  whistle, 
now  faint,  now  clearer,  a  modulated  wail  broken  at 
moments  by  a  tremolo  on  one  high  note.  It  was  like 
a  voice  lamenting  to  the  dead  of  night.  Glazzard 
could  not  endure  it;  he  turned  back  into  the  station 
and  tramped  noisily  on  the  stone  platform. 

Then  the  air  was  disturbed  by  the  dull  roar  of  an 
approaching  train,  and  presently  a  long  string  of 
loaded  waggons  passed  without  pause.  The  engine-fire 
glowed  upon  heavy  puffs  of  smoke,  making  them  a 
rich  crimson.  A  freight  of  iron  bars  clanged  and 
clashed  intolerably.    When  remoteness  at  length  stilled 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  321 

them,  there  rose  again  the  long  wailing  whistle;  it  was 
answered  by  another  like  it  from  still  greater  distance. 

Glazzard  could  stand  and  walk  no  longer.  He  threw 
himself  on  a  seat,  crossed  his  arms,  and  remained 
motionless  until  the  ringing  of  a  bell  and  a  sudden 
turning  on  of  lights  warned  him  that  his  train  drew  near. 

On  the  way  to  Polterham  he  dozed,  and  only  a 
fortunate  awaking  at  the  last  moment  saved  him  from 
passing  his  station.  It  was  now  close  upon  two  o'clock, 
and  he  had  a  two-mile  walk  to  Highmead.  His 
brother  believed  that  he  was  spending  the  evening  with 
an  acquaintance  in  a  neighbouring  town;  he  had  said 
he  should  probably  be  very  late,  and  a  side  door  was  to 
be  left  unbarred  that  he  might  admit  himself  with  a 
latch-key. 

But  for  a  policeman  here  and  there,  the  streets  were 
desolate.  Wherever  the  lamplight  fell  upon  a  wall  or 
hoarding,  it  illumined  election  placards,  with  the  names 
of  the  candidates  in  staring  letters,  and  all  the  familiar 
vulgarities  of  party  advertising.  "  Welwyn-Baker  and 
the  Honour  of  Old  England!" — "Vote  for  Quarrier, 
the  Friend  of  the  Working  Man ! " — "  No  Jingoism  I  " 
— "  The  Constitution  in  Danger !  Polterham  to  the 
Eescue ! "  These  trumpetings  to  the  battle  restored 
Glazzard's  self-satisfaction;  he  smiled  once  more,  and 
walked  on  with  lighter  step. 

Just  outside  the  town,  in  a  dark  narrow  road,  he  was 
startled  by  the  sudden  rising  of  a  man's  figure.  A  voice 
exclaimed,  in  thick,  ebrious  tones:  "Who  are  you 
for  ?    What's  your  colour  ?  " 

"Who  are  you  for?"  called  out  Glazzard,  in  return, 
as  he  walked  past. 

The  politician— who  had  seemingly  been  asleep  iu 


223  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

the  ditcli — raised  himself  to  his  full  height  and  waved 
his  arms  about. 

"I'm  a  Eadical! — Quarrier  for  ever! — Come  on,  one 
and  all  of  you — I'm  ready:  fist  or  argument,  it's  all 
one  to  me! — You  and  your  Welwyn-Baker — gurr! 
AVhat's  he  ever  done  for  the  people  ? — that's  what  7 
want  to  know! — Ya-oo-oo-oo!  Quarrier  for  ever! — 
Down  with  the  aristercrats  as  wants  to  make  war  at  the 
expense  of  the  working  man !  What's  England  coming 
to  ? — tell  me  that !  You've  no  principles,  you  haven't, 
you  Tory  skunks;  you've  not  half  a  principle  among 
you. — I'm  a  man  of  principle,  I  am,  and  I  vote  for 
national  morality,  I  do! — You're  running  away,  are 
you? — Ya-oo-oo! — stop  and  fight  it  out,  if  you're  a 
man-!— Down  with  'em,  boys  !  Down  with  'em  ! — 
Quarrier  for  ever ! " 

The  shouts  of  hiccoughy  enthusiasm  came  suddenly 
to  an  end,  and  Glazzard,  looking  back,  saw  that,  in  an 
attempt  to  run,  the  orator  had  measured  his  length  in 
the  mud. 

By  three  o'clock  he  was  seated  in  his  bedroom,  very 
tired  but  not  much  disposed  to  turn  into  bed.  He  had 
put  a  match  to  the  fire,  for  his  feet  were  numbed  with 
cold,  in  spite  of  a  long  walk.  Travelling-bags  and 
trunks  in  readiness  for  removal  told  of  his  journey  on 
the  morrow.  All  his  arrangements  were  made;  the 
marriage  ceremony  was  to  take  place  at  ten  o'clock, 
and  shortly  after  eleven  he  and  his  wife  would  leave  for 
London  on  their  way  to  the  Continent. 

Too  soon,  of  course,  to  hear  the  result  of  Northway's 
visit  to  the  Court-house.  There  would  be  the  pleasure 
of  imagining  all  that  he  left  behind  him,  and  in  a  day 
or  two  the  papers  would  bring  news.     He  had  always 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  223 

sympathized  with  Guy  Fawkes  and  his  fellow-con- 
spirators: how  delightful  to  have  fired  the  train^  and 
then,  at  a  safe  distance,  have  awaited  the  stupendous 
explosion. 

Poor  little  Lilian!  That  was  the  only  troublesome 
thought.  Yet  was  he  in  truth  harming  her  ?  Quarrier 
would  take  her  abroad,  and,  in  a  life  of  retirement,  she 
would  have  far  more  happiness  than  was  possible  to  her 
under  the  present  circumstances.  Northway  would  sue 
for  a  divorce,  and  thus  leave  her  free  to  enter  upon 
legitimate  marriage.  Perhaps  he  was  doing  her  the 
greatest  kindness  in  his  power. 

When  his  feet  were  thoroughly  warm  he  went  to 
bed,  and  slept  well  until  the  servant  called  him  at  half- 
past  seven.  It  was  a  very  bright  morning;  he  drew 
up  the  blind  and  let  a  flood  of  sunshine  into  the  room. 
Contrary  to  his  expectations,  no  despondency  weighed 
upon  him;  by  breakfast  time  he  was  more  than  usually 
cheerful. 

"  Ivy,"  he  said  to  his  niece,  "  I  have  promised  to  call 
at  the  Quarriers'  on  our  way.  AVe  had  better  start  at  a 
quarter  to  nine;  that  will  give  us  five  minutes  with  them." 

Of  his  brother  he  took  leave  with  much  cordiality. 
William  would  probably  not  be  much  longer  at  High- 
mead,  and  might  perhaps  Join  his  relatives  abroad 
before  the  end  of  the  year.  In  that  case.  Ivy  would 
accompany  him;  and  she  thought  with  timid  pleasure 
of  thus  renewing  her  friendship  with  Serena  under 
brighter  skies. 

Two  vehicles  came  up  to  the  door — in  one  the 
luggage  was  despatched  to  the  station;  the  other 
carried  the  bridegroom  and  his  niece  into  Polterham. 

Quarrier  awaited  them  on  his  threshold,  watch  in 


224  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

hand,  for  he  had  no  time  to  lose  on  the  eve  of  nomina- 
tion-day. 

"Come  in!"  he  cried,  joyously.     "Such  weather  as 
this  is  a  good  omen.     How  do  you  do.  Miss  Glazzard  ? 
Here  is  Lilian  all  excitement  to  see  you;   she  would 
give  her  little  finger  to  go  to  the  wedding." 
They  entered  the  house. 

"Decidedly,"  said  Denzil,  turning  to  Lilian,  "his 
appearance  is  a  compliment  to  Miss  Mumbray.  When 
did  you  see  him  looking  so  well  and  animated  ?  " 

Lilian  coloured,  and  tried  to  speak  in  the  same  tone, 
but  it  was  with  difficulty  that  she  used  her  voice  at  all. 
Glazzard's  departure  from  Polterham  promised  her  such 
relief  of  mind  that  she  could  not  face  him  without  a 
sense  of  shame. 

"  Telegraph  the  result,  if  it  is  favourable,"  said  Glaz- 
zard.    "  You  shall  have  an  address  in  time  for  that." 

"If  it  is  favourable?  AVhy,  my  dear  fellow,  we 
shall  poll  two  to  one,  at  the  lowest  computation!  I've 
half  lost  my  pleasure  in  the  fight;  I  feel  ashamed  to 
•hit  out  with  all  my  strength  when  I  make  a  speech — 
it's  like  pounding  an  invalid !  " 

"  Then  I  congratulate  you  in  advance,  Mrs.  Quarrier. 
If  we  are  long  away  from  England,  the  chances  are  I 
shall  have  to  make  my  next  call  upon  you  in  Downing 
Street!" 

"Some  day,  old  boy— some  day!"  assented  Denzil, 
with  a  superb  smile. 

There  followed  much  handshaking,  and  the  visitors 
returned  to  their  carriage.  As  it  moved  away,  Glazzard 
put  his  head  out  of  the  window,  waved  his  hand,  and 
cried  merrily : 

"  Quarrier  for  ever ! " 


XX 

In  the  interviews  with  Mr,  Marks,  Arthur  Northway 
did  not  show  at  his  best.  Whoever  that  scheming 
personage  might  be,  his  knowledge  and  his  air  of  con- 
descension oppressed  the  needy  young  man,  made  him 
conscious  of  a  hang-dog  look,  and  a  heljaless  j^romp- 
titude  to  sell  himself  for  a  few  coins.  It  was  not  thus 
that  Northway,  even  after  his  unpleasant  experiences, 
viewed  himself  in  relation  to  the  world.  He  hud 
decidedly  more  intellect  than  is  often  found  in  commer- 
cial clerks — the  class  to  which  he  belonged  by  birth 
and  breeding — and  in  spite  of  checks  he  believed 
himself  destined  to  no  common  career.  Long  musing 
had  taught  him  the  rashness  of  his  youthful  endeavours 
to  live  largely;  he  was  now  aware  that  his  talents  must 
ally  themselves  with  patience,  with  a  careful  scrutiny 
of  possibilities. 

Lying  awake  in  the  night,  he  thought  with  anything 
but  satisfaction  of  the  bargain  to  which  he  had  pledged 
himself.  To  discover  the  woman  who  was  by  law  his 
wife  would  undoubtedly  be  a  good  beginning  now  that 
he  had  every  disposition  to  fix  himself  in  a  steady 
course,  but  he  saw  no  advantage  whatever  in  coming 
before  a  bench  of  magistrates  and  re-opening  the  story 
of  his  past.  It  would  be  pleasant  to  deal  a  blow  at  this 
man  Quarrier;  but,  if  Marks  had  told  him  the  truth. 


DENZIL  QUARRIER 


Quarrier  was  in  auy  case  doomed  to  exposure.  Was  it 
not  possible  to  act  at  once  with  prudence  and  with  self- 
respect,  to  gain  some  solid  benefit  without  practice  of 
rascality  ?  It  involved  breaking  his  word,  but  was  he 
bound  to  keep  faith  with  a  man  who  proceeded  on  the 
assumption  that  he  was  ready  for  any  base  dealing? 
The  money  in  his  pocket  he  might  find  an  opportunity 
of  paying  back.  In  this  matter  before  him,  he  was  un- 
deniably an  injured  man.  Lilian  was  treating  him  very 
badly  indeed,  very  unfairly.  If  she  chose  to  repudiate 
her  marriage  with  him,  it  was  her  duty  to  afford  him  the 
chance  of  freeing  himself  from  the  legal  bond.  What 
moralist  could  defend  her  behaviour  ? 

He  worked  himself  into  a  mood  of  righteous  indig- 
nation, of  self-pity.  'No;  the  very  least  Lilian  should 
have  done,  in  uniting  herself  to  another  man,  moreover 
a  wealthy  man,  was  to  make  some  provision  for  her 
forsaken  husband.  That  little  income  of  hers  should 
have  been  transferred  to  him.  Her  action  was  unex- 
pected; he  had  thought  her  too  timid,  too  religious, 
too  soft-hearted,  foF  anything  of  this  kind.  Since  the 
disastrous  wedding-day,  she  had,  it  was  true,  declined 
to  hold  communication  with  him;  but  he  always  looked 
forward  to  a  meeting  when  he  regained  his  freedom, 
and  had  faith  in  his  personal  influence.  It  was  not 
solely  for  the  sake  of  her  money  that  he  wooed  and  won 
her;  other  connections  notwithstanding,  he  felt  some- 
thing like  genuine  tenderness  for  Lilian,  and  even  now 
this  sentiment  was  not  extinct. 

The  morning  only  confirmed  his  reluctance  to  follow 
Mr.  Marks's  directions.  Practically,  he  lost  nothing 
by  taking  his  own  course  but  a  five-pound  note.  Let 
the  electioneering  agent  attack  Quarrier  by  some  other 


DENZIL   QLTARRIER  227 

means.  For  a  few  hours,  at  all  events,  the  secret  would 
remain  unpublished,  and  in  that  interval  the  way 
might  be  opened  for  an  honest  and  promising  career. 

He  breakfasted  substantially,  and  left  by  the  train 
apj)ointed.  Arrived  at  Polterham,  after  a  walk  up  and 
down  the  nearest  streets  and  an  inspection  of  the  party 
placards,  he  asked  his  way  to  the  shoiJ  of  Mr.  Eidge, 
bookseller.     At  once  he  was  directed  thither, 

"  So  far  so  good,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  It  seems 
pretty  certain  that  Marks  has  not  misled  me.  Shall  I 
go  into  this  shop,  and  play  the  trick  that  was  recom- 
mended ?  I  think  it  is  hardly  worth  while.  Better  to 
inquire  for  Quarrier's  house,  and  have  a  look  at  it." 

He  did  so,  and — it  may  be  mentioned — on  his  way 
passed  the  doors  of  the  church  in  which  at  that  moment 
Glazzard  was  being  married.  At  about  half-past  ten 
he  was  in  sight  of  the  high  wall  surrounding  Quarrier's 
garden;  he  approached  the  gate,  and  cautiously  took  a 
view  of  what  was  within,  then  walked  to  a  little 
distance. 

His  wife  had  not  done  badly  for  a  little  country  girl. 
"Whilst  he  prowled  about  the  streets  with  his  burden  of 
disgrace,  his  blank  future,  Lilian  sat  at  her  ease  in  a 
mansion — doubtless  had  her  carriages,  perhaps  her 
liveried  servants — associated  with  important  people. 
After  all,  there  was  something  to  be  said  for  that  appeal 
to  the  magistrate,  with  its  consequence  of  scandal,  ruin, 
to  these  people  who  thought  themselves  so  secure  from 
him.     He  recovered  his  mood  of  last  night. 

"Boy!" — an  errand-lad  was  just  passing — "where- 
abouts is  the  Court-house  ?  " 

He  was  bidden  take  a  turning  within  sight  and  go 
straight  on  for  about  half  a  mile. 


228  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  And  I  will,  too  ! "  he  said  in  his  mind.  "  She 
shall  suffer  for  it  !  " 

He  turned  away  and  walked  for  some  twenty  yards. 
Then  once  more  the  doubt  occurred  to  him.  He  had 
better  go  to  the  bookseller's  and  make  sure  of  Mrs. 
Quarrier's  identity.  Turning  to  take  the  opposite 
direction,  he  saw  some  one  coming  forth  from  the  gates 
by  which  he  had  just  stood — a  lady — and  it  might 
be ? 

Agitation  shook  him  from  head  to  foot.  Was  not 
that  Lilian's  figure,  her  walk  ?  She  was  moving  away 
from  him;  he  must  have  a  glimpse  of  her  face.  Draw- 
ing carefully  nearer,  on  the  side  oj)posite  to  hers — 
carefully — fearfully — he  at  length  saw  her  features, 
then  fell  back.  Yes,  it  was  Lilian.  Much  disguised 
in  that  handsome  walking-costume,  but  beyond  doubt 
Lilian.  Still,  as  of  old,  she  walked  with  bowed  head, 
modestly.     Who  could  imagine  what  she  concealed  ? 

His  face  was  moist  with  perspiration.  Following,  he 
could  not  take  his  eyes  off  her.  That  lady  was  his 
wife.  He  had  but  to  claim  her,  and  all  her  sham 
dignity  fell  to  nothing.  But  he  could  not  command 
her  obedience.  He  had  no  more  power  over  her  will 
than  any  stranger.  She  might  bid  him  do  his  worst — 
and  so  vanish  Avith  her  chosen  companion  utterly 
beyond  his  reach. 

Again  he  thought  of  the  Court-house.  For  it  was 
too  certain  that  the  sight  of  him  would  inspire  her  only 
with  horror.  Should  he  not  hold  her  up  to  infamy  ? 
If  he  did  not,  another  would ;  Marks  was  plainly  to  be 
trusted;  this  day  was  the  last  of  Mrs.  Quarrier's 
grandeur. 

And  to  remember  that  was  to  pause.    Could  he  afford 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  229 

to  throw  away  a  great  opportunity  for  tlie  sake  of 
malicious  satisfaction  ? 

She  walked  on,  and  he  followed,  keeping  thirty  or 
forty  paces  behind  her.  He  saw  at  length  that  she  was 
not  going  into  the  town.  The  fine  morning  had  perhaps 
invited  her  to  a  country  walk.  So  much  the  better;  he 
would  wait  till  they  were  in  a  part  where  observation 
was  less  to  be  feared;  then  he  would  speak  to  her. 

Lilian  never  looked  back.  It  was  indeed  the  bright 
sunshine  that  had  suggested  a  walk  out  to  Pear-tree 
Cottage,  where  before  noon  she  would  probably  find 
Mrs.  Wade  among  her  books.  She  felt  light  of  heart. 
Within  this  hour  Glazzard  would  be  gone  from  Polter- 
ham.  Eour  days  hence,  Denzil  would  be  a  Member  of 
Parliament.  Had  she  no  claim  to  happiness — she  whose 
girlhood  had  suffered  such  monstrous  wrong  ?  Another 
reason  there  was  for  the  impulse  of  joy  that  possessed 
her — a  hope  once  already  disappointed — a  voice  of 
nature  bidding  her  regard  this  marriage  as  true  and 
eternal,  let  the  world  say  what  it  would. 

She  was  within  sight  of  the  cottage,  when  Mrs. 
Wade  herself  appeared,  coming  towards  her.  Lilian 
waved  her  hand,  quickened  her  step.     They  met. 

"I  was  going  for  a  walk  in  the  fields,"  said  Mrs. 
Wade.     "  Shall  we  " 

Lilian  had  turned  round,  and  at  this  moment  her 
eyes  fell  upon  Northway,  who  was  quite  near.  A 
stifled  cry  escaped  her,  and  she  grasped  at  her  friend's 
arm. 

"What  is  it,  dear?" 

Mrs.  Wade  looked  at  her  with  alarm,  imagining  an 
attack  of  illness.  But  the  next  instant  she  was  aware 
of  the  stranger,  who  stood  in  obvious  embarrassment. 


330  DENZIL  QUARRIEU 

She  examined  him  keenly,  then  again  turned  her  eyes 
upon  Lilian. 

"  Is  this  some  one  you  know  ?  "  she  asked,  in  a  low 
voice. 

Lilian  could  not  reply,  and  reply  was  needless.  North- 
way,  who  had  kejDt  postponing  the  moment  of  address, 
now  lost  himself  between  conflicting  motives.  Seeing 
Lilian's  consternation  and  her  friend's  surprise,  he 
nervously  raised  his  hat,  drew  a  step  or  two  nearer,  tried 
to  smile. 

"Mrs.  Wade,"  Lilian  uttered,  with  desperate  effort 
to  seem  self-possessed,  "  I  wish  to  speak  to  this  gentle- 
man.    Will  you — do  you  mind  ?  " 

Her  face  was  bloodless  and  wrung  with  anguish.  The 
widow  again  looked  at  her,  then  said : 

"  I  will  go  in  again.  If  you  wish  to  see  me,  I  shall  be 
there." 

And  at  once  she  turned  away. 

Northway  came  forward,  a  strange  light  in  his  eyes. 

"I'm  the  last  person  you  thought  of  seeing,  no  doubt. 
But  we  must  have  a  talk.  I'm  sorry  that  happened 
before  some  one  else." 

"  Come  with  me  out  of  the  road.  There's  a  field-path 
just  here." 

They  crossed  the  stile,  and  walked  a  short  distance  in 
the  direction  of  Bale  Water.     Then  Lilian  stopped. 

"  Who  told  you  where  to  find  me  ?  " 

Already  Northway  had  decided  upon  his  course  of 
action.  Whilst  he  followed  Lilian,  watching  her  every 
movement,  the  old  amorous  feeling  had  gradually 
taken  strong  hold  upon  him.  He  no  longer  thought  of 
revenge.  His  one  desire  was  to  claim  this  beautiful 
girl  as  his  wife.     In  doing  so,  it  seemed  to  him,  he 


DENZIL  QT^IRRIER  231 

took  an  unassailable  position,  put  himself  altogether  in 
the  right.  Marks's  plot  did  not  concern  him;  he  threw 
it  aside,  and  followed  the  guidance  of  his  own  discretion. 

"I  have  found  you/'  he  said,  fingering  his  throat 
nervously,  "  by  mere  chance.  I  came  here  in  search  of 
employment  —  something  in  a  newspaper.  And  I 
happened  to  see  you  in  the  streets.  I  asked  who  you 
were.  Then,  this  morning,  I  watched  you  and  followed 
you." 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"That's  a  strange  question,  I  think." 

"  You  know  there  can't  be  anything  between  us." 

"  I  don't  see  that." 

He  breathed  hard;  his  eyes  never  moved  from  her 
face.  Lilian,  nerved  by  despair,  spoke  in  almost  a 
steady  voice;  but  the  landscape  around  her  was  veiled 
in  mist ;  she  saw  only  the  visage  which  her  memory  had 
identified  with  repugnance  and  dread. 

"  If  you  want  my  money,"  she  said,  "  you  can  have  it 
— you  shall  have  it  at  once.     I  give  you  it  all." 

"No,  I  don't  ask  for  your  money,"  Northway 
answered,  with  resentment.  "Here's  some  one  coming; 
let  us  walk  out  into  the  field." 

Lilian  followed  the  direction  of  his  look,  and  saw  a 
man  whom  she  did  not  recognize.  She  left  the  path 
and  moved  whither  her  companion  was  leading,  over 
the  stubby  grass;  it  was  wet,  but  for  this  she  had  no 
thought. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  living  in  this  way  ?  "  he 
asked,  turning  to  her  again. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  question  me." 

"  What!— no  right  ?  Then  who  has  a  right  I  should 
like  to  know  ?  " 


S32  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

He  did  not  speak  harshly;  his  look  expressed  sincere 
astonishment. 

"  I  don't  acknowledge/'  said  Lilian,  with  quivering 
voice,  "  that  that  ceremony  made  me  your  wife." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  It  was  a  legal  marriage.  Who 
has  said  anything  against  it  ?  " 

"You  know  very  well  that  you  did  me  a  great  wrong. 
The  marriage  was  nothing  but  a  form  of  words." 

"  On  whose  part  ?  Certainly  not  on  mine.  I  meant 
everything  I  said  and  promised.  It's  true  I  hadn't 
been  living  in  the  right  way;  but  that  was  all  done 
with.  If  nothing  had  happened,  I  should  have  begun 
a  respectable  life.  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  do  so. 
I  shouldn't  have  deceived  you  in  anything." 

"  Whether  that's  true  or  not,  I  don't  know.  I  ivas 
deceived,  and  cruelly.  You  did  me  an  injury  you 
could  never  have  made  good." 

Northway  drew  in  his  cheeks,  and  stared  at  her 
persistently.  He  had  begun  to  examine  the  details  of 
her  costume — her  pretty  hat,  her  gloves,  the  fur  about 
her  neck.  In  face  she  was  not  greatly  changed  from 
what  he  had  known,  but  her  voice  and  accent  were  new 
to  him — more  refined,  more  mature,  and  he  could  not 
yet  overcome  the  sense  of  strangeness.  He  felt  as 
though  he  were  behaving  with  audacity;  it  was  neces- 
sary to  remind  himself  again  and  again  that  this  was 
no  other  than  Lilian  Allen — nay,  Lilian  Northway; 
whose  hand  he  had  held,  whose  lips  he  had  kissed. 

A  thrill  went  through  him. 

"  But  you  are  my  wife  ! "  he  exclaimed,  earnestly. 
"What  right  have  you  to  call  yourself  Mrs.  Quarrier? 
Have  you  pretended  to  marry  that  man  ?  " 

Lilian's  eyes  fell;  she  made  no  answer. 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  233 

"You  must  tell  me — or  I  shall  have  no  choice  but  to  go 
and  ask  him.     And  if  you  have  committed  bigamy  " 

"There  has  been  no  marriage/'  she  hastened  to  say. 
"  I  have  done  what  I  thought  right." 

"  Eight  ?  I  don't  know  how  you  can  call  that  right. 
I  supijose  you  were  persuaded  into  it.  Does  he  know 
all  the  truth  ?  " 

She  was  racked  with  doubt  as  to  what  she  should 
disclose.  Her  thoughts  would  not  be  controlled,  and 
whatever  words  she  uttered  seemed  to  come  from  her 
lips  of  their  own  accord. 

"  What  do  you  expect  of  me  ?  "  she  cried,  in  a  voice 
of  utmost  distress.  "  I  have  been  living  like  this  for 
more  than  two  years.  Eight  or  wrong,  it  can't  be 
changed — it  can't  be  undone.  You  know  that.  It 
was  natural  you  should  wish  to  si:)eak  to  me;  but  why 
do  you  pretend  to  think  that  we  can  be  anything  to  each 
other  ?  You  have  a  right  to  my  money — it  shall  be 
yours  at  once." 

He  stamped,  and  his  eyes  shot  anger. 

"  What  do  you  take  me  for  ?  Do  you  suppose  I  shall 
consent  to  give  you  iip  for  money  ?  Tell  me  what  I 
have  asked.     Does  that  man  know  your  history  ?  " 

"  Of  course  he  knows  it — everything." 

"  And  he  thinks  I  shall  never  succeed  in  finding  you 
out !  Well,  he  is  mistaken,  you  see — things  of  this  kind 
are  always  found  out,  as  you  and  he  might  have  known. 
You  can't  do  wrong  and  live  all  your  life  as  if  you  were 
innocent." 

The  admonition  came  rather  inappropriately  from 
him,  but  it  shook  Lilian  in  spite  of  her  better  sense. 

"  It  can't  be  changed,"  she  exclaimed.  "  It  can't  be 
undone." 


234  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  That's  all  nonsense  !  " 

"  I  will  die  rather  than  leave  him  !  " 

Hot  jealousy  began  to  rage  in  him.  He  was  not  a 
man  of  vehement  passions,  but  penal  servitude  had 
wrought  the  natural  effect  upon  his  appetites.  The 
egotism  of  a  conceited  disj)Osition  tended  to  the  same 
result.  He  swore  within  himself  a  fierce  oath  that, 
come  what  might,  this  woman  should  be  his.  She  con- 
trasted him  with  her  wealthy  lover,  despised  him;  but 
right  and  authority  were  on  his  side. 

"Leave  him  you  must — and  shall:  so  there's  plain 
sj)eaking  !     You  will  never  go  into  that  house  again." 

Lilian  turned  as  if  to  flee  from  him.  No  one  was 
within  sight;  and  how  could  she  have  appealed  toiany 
one  for  help  ?  In  the  distance  she  saw  the  roof  of  Mrs. 
Wade's  cottage;  it  allayed  her  despair  for  the  moment. 
There,  at  all  events,  was  a  friend  who  would  intervene 
for  her,  a  strong  and  noble-minded  woman,  capable  of 
offering  the  best  counsel,  of  acting  with  decision.  Vain 
now  to  think  of  hiding  her  secret  from  that  friend — 
and  who  could  be  more  safely  trusted  with  it  ? 

But  she  still  had  the  resource  of  entreaty. 

"You  talk  of  right  and  wrong — is  it  right  to  be 
merciless  ?  What  can  I  ever  be  to  you  ?  AVould  you 
take  me  away  by  force,  and  compel  me  to  live  with 
you  ?  I  have  told  you  I  would  die  rather.  When  you 
think  of  everything,  have  you  no  pity  for  me  ?  What- 
ever you  intended,  wasn't  our  marriage  a  terrible  injus- 
tice to  me  ?     Oughtn't  you  to  give  a  thought  to  that  ?  " 

"  You  are  living  an  immoral  life,"  replied  Northway, 
with  tremulous  emphasis.  "  I  could  hold  you  up  to 
shame.  No,  I  don't  ask  you  to  come  and  live  with  me 
at   once;    I  don't   expect  that.     But  you   must  leave 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  235 

that  man,  and  live  a  respectable  life,  and — then  in  time 
I  shall  forgive  you,  instead  of  disgracing  you  in  the 
divorce  court.  I  ask  only  what  is  right.  You  used  to 
be  religious  " 

"  Oh,  how  can  you  talk  to  me  like  that  !  If  you 
really  think  me  wicked  and  disgraced,  leave  me  to  my 
own  conscience  !  Have  yoio  no  sins  that  ask  for 
forgiveness  ?  " 

"It  isn't  for  you  to  speak  of  them,"  he  retorted, 
with  imbecile  circling.  "All  I  know  is  that  you  are 
my  wife  by  law,  and  it  is  my  duty  to  save  you 
from  this  position.  I  shan't  let  you  go  back.  If  you 
resist  my  authority,  I  shall  exj^lain  everything  to  any 
one  who  asks,  that's  all. — Who  was  that  lady  you  were 
talking  to  ?  " 

"  She  lives  in  the  little  house  over  there.  I  must  go 
and  speak  to  her." 

"  Does  she  know  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  What  have  you  to  say  to  her,  then  ?  " 

They  looked  into  each  other's  eyes  for  a  moment. 
Northway  was  gauging  the  strength  of  her  character, 
and  he  half  believed  that  by  an  exertion  of  all  his 
energy  he  might  overcome  her,  lead  her  away  at  once. 
He  remembered  that  before  the  close  of  this  day 
Quarrier's  secret  would  be  universally  known,  and  when 
that  had  come  to  pass,  he  would  have  no  hold  upon 
either  the  man  or  the  woman.  They  would  simply 
turn  their  backs  upon  him,  and  go  beyond  his 
reach. 

He  laid  his  hand  upon  her,  and  the  touch,  the  look 
in  his  eyes,  drove  Lilian  to  the  last  refuge. 

■"  You  must  go  with  me,  then,  to  Mr.  Quarrier,"  she 


236  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

said,  firmly.  "  You  have  no  power  to  stop  me.  I  shall 
go  home,  and  you  must  follow  me,  if  you  choose." 

"  No,  you  will  go  with  me  !  Do  you  hear  ?  I  com- 
mand you  to  come  with  me!  " 

It  was  his  best  imitation  of  resistless  authority,  and  he 
saw,  even  in  speaking,  that  he  had  miscalculated.  Lilian 
drew  back  a  step  and  looked  at  him  with  defiance. 

"  Command  me,  you  cannot.  I  am  as  free  from  your 
control  as  any  stranger." 

"  Try,  and  see.  If  you  attempt  to  go  back  into  the 
town,  I  shall  hold  you  by  force,  and  the  consequences 
will  be  worse  to  you  than  to  me.     Do  as  you  please." 

Again  her  eyes  turned  to  the  distant  roof  of  Pear- 
tree  Cottage.  She,  too,  had  estimated  her  strength  and 
his.  She  knew  by  instinct  what  his  face  meant — the 
swollen,  trembling  lips,  the  hot  eyes;  and  understood 
that  he  Avas  capable  of  any  baseness.  To  attempt  to 
reach  her  home  would  be  an  abandonment  of  all  hope, 
the  ruin  of  Denzil.  A  means  of  escape  from  worst 
extremity,  undiscoverable  by  her  whirling  brain,  might 
sug-o-est  itself  to  such  a  mind  as  Mrs.  AVade's.  If  only 
she  could  communicate  with  the  cottage ! 

"  Then  I  shall  go  to  my  friend  here,"  she  said,  pointing. 

He  hesitated. 

"AVhoisshe?" 

"  A  lady  who  lives  quite  alone." 

"  What's  the  good  of  your  going  there  ?  " 

She  had  recourse  to  artifice,  and  acted  weakness  much 
better  than  he  had  simulated  strength. 

"  I  must  have  some  one's  advice !  I  must  know  how 
others  regard  your  claim." 

He  saw  no  possibility  of  restraining  her,  and  it  might 
befall   that  this  lady,  intentionally   or  not,  would  use 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  237 

her  influence  on  Ms  side.  Those  hist  words  signified  a 
doubt  in  Lilian's  mind.  Was  it  not  pretty  certain  that 
any  respectable  woman,  on  learning  how  matters  stood, 
must  exclaim  against  that  jDretended  marriage  ? 
Northway's  exj^erience  lay  solely  among  the  representa- 
tives of  English  morality,  and  the  frankly  vicious;  he 
could  hardly  imagine  a  "lady"  whose  view  of  the  point 
at  issue  would  admit  pleas  on  Lilian's  behalf. 

"  If  you  go  there,"  he  said,  "  I  must  be  with  you." 

Lilian  made  no  answer,  but  moved  away.  They 
passed  into  the  road,  turned  towards  the  cottage.  On 
reaching  the  gate,  Lilian  saw  Mrs.  Wade  standing  just 
before  her. 

"  I  must  speak  to  you !  "  she  said,  holding  out  her 
hands  impulsively. 

Mrs.  Wade  looked  from  her  to  the  man  in  the  back- 
ground, who  again  had  awkwardly  raised  his  hat — a 
cheap  but  new  cylinder,  which,  together  with  his  slop- 
made  coat  and  trousers,  classed  him  among  uncertain 
specimens  of  humanity. 

"  Will  you  let  him  come  in  ?  "  Lilian  whispered,  a  sob 
at  length  breaking  her  voice. 

The  widow  was  perfectly  self-possessed.  Her  eyes 
gleamed  very  brightly  and  glanced  hither  and  thither 
with  the  keenest  scrutiny.  She  held  Lilian's  hand, 
answering  in  a  low  voice : 

"  Trust  me,  dear !  I'm  so  glad  you  have  come. 
What  is  his  name  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Northway." 

Mrs.  Wade  addressed  him,  and  invited  him  to  enter; 
but  Northway,  having  ascertained  that  there  was  no 
escape  from  the  cottage  which  he  could  not  watch^  drew 
back. 


238  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  Thank  you,"  lie  said ;  "  I  had  rather  wait  out  here. 
If  that  lady  wants  me,  I  shall  be  within  reach." 

Mrs.  Wade  nodded,  and  drew  her  friend  in.  Lilian 
of  a  sudden  lost  her  physical  strength;  she  had  to 
be  supported,  almost  carried,  into  the  sitting-room. 
The  words  of  kindness  with  which  Mrs.  Wade  sought 
to  recover  her  had  a  natural  enough  effect;  they 
invited  an  hysterical  outbreak,  and  for  several  minutes 
the  sufferer  wailed  helplessly.  In  the  meantime  she 
was  disembarrassed  of  her  out-door  clothing.  A  stimu- 
lant at  length  so  far  restored  her  that  she  could  speak 
connectedly. 

"I  don't  know  what  you  will  think  of  me. — I  am 
obliged  to  tell  you  something  I  hoped  never  to  speak 
of.  Denzil  ought  to  know  first  what  has  happened; 
but  I  can't  go  to  him. — I  must  tell  you,  and  trust  your 
friendship.  Perhaps  you  can  help  me;  you  will — I 
know  you  will  if  you  can." 

"  Anything  in  my  power,"  replied  the  listener,  sooth- 
ingly. "Whatever  you  tell  me  is  perfectly  safe.  I 
think  you  know  me  well  enough,  Lily." 

Then  Lilian  began,  and  told  her  story  from  first  to 
last. 


I 


XXI 

Told  it  rapidly,  now  and  then  confusedly,  but  with 
omission  of  nothing  essential.  So  often  she  had 
reviewed  her  life,  at  successive  stages  of  culture  and 
self-knowledge.  Every  step  had  been  debated  in 
heart  and  conscience.  She  had  so  much  to  say,  yet 
might  not  linger  in  the  narration,  and  feared  to  seem 
eager  in  the  excuse  of  what  she  had  done.  To 
speak  of  these  things  to  one  of  her  own  sex  was  in 
itself  a  great  relief,  yet  from  time  to  time  the 
recollection  that  she  was  betraying  Denzil's  secret 
struck  her  with  cold  terror.  Was  not  this  necessity 
a  result  of  her  weakness  ?  A  stronger  woman  would 
perhaps  have  faced  the  situation  in  some  other 
way. 

Mrs.  Wade  listened  intently,  and  the  story  seemed 
to  move  her  in  no  slight  degree.  Lilian,  anxiously 
watching  her  face,  found  it  difficult  to  interpret 
the  look  of  suppressed  excitement.  Censure  she 
could  not  read  there;  pain,  if  ever  visible,  merely 
flitted  over  brow  and  lips;  at  moments  she  half  be- 
lieved that  her  hearer  was  exulting  in  this  defiance 
of  accepted  morality — what  else  could  be  the  signifi- 
cance  of   that  flash   in  the  eyes;   that  quiver   of  the 


240  DENZIL   QUARRIES 

nostrils — all  but  a  triumphant  smile?  They  sat  close 
to  each  other,  Lilian  in  the  low  basket-chair,  the 
widow  on  a  higher  seat,  and  when  the  story  came  to 
an  end,  their  hands  met. 

"How  can  I  save  Denzil?"  was  Lilian's  last  word. 
"Anything — any  sacrifice!  If  this  becomes  known, 
his  whole  life  is  ruined ! " 

Mrs.  Wade  pressed  the  soft,  cold  fingers,  and  kept 
a  thoughtful  silence. 

"It's  a  strange  coincidence,"  she  said  at  length, 
"very  strange  that  this  should  hapjien  on  the  eve  of 
the  election." 

"  The  secret  must  be  kept  until " — • — 

Lilian's  voice  failed.  She  looked  anxiously  at  her 
friend,  and  added : 

"  What  would  be  the  result  if  it  were  known 
afterwards — when  Denzil  is  elected?" 

"It's  hard  to  say.  But  tell  me,  Lily:  is  there  no 
one  who  has  been  admitted  to  your  confidence  ?  " 

What  purpose  would  be  served  by  keeping  back  the 
name  ?     Lilian's  eyes  fell  as  she  answered. 

"  Mr.  Glazzard  knows." 

"  Mr.  Eustace  Glazzard  ?  " 

Lilian  explained  how  and  when  it  had  become 
necessary  to  make  him  a  sharer  in  the  secret. 

"  Do  you  believe,"  Mrs.  Wade  asked,  "  that  Northway 
really  discovered  you  by  chance  ?  " 

"I  don't  know.  He  says  so.  I  can  only  feel 
absolutely  sure  that  Mr.  Glazzard  has  nothing  to  do 
with  it." 

Mrs.  Wade  mused  doubtfully. 

"  Absolutely  sure  ?  " 

"  Oh,  how  is  it  possible  ?     If  you  knew  him  as  well 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  241 

as  we  do!— Impossible! — He  came  to  see  us  this  very 
morning,  on  his  way  to  be  married,  and  laughed  and 
talked!" 

"  You  are  right,  no  doubt,"  returned  the  other,  with 
quiet  reassurance.  "'  If  it  wasn't  chance,  some  obscure 
agency  has  been  at  work.  You  must  remember,  Lily, 
that  only  by  a  miracle  could  you  have  lived  on  in 
security." 

"  I  have  sometimes  felt  that,"  whispered  the  sufferer, 
her  head  falling. 

"And  it  almost  seems,"  went  on  Mrs.  Wade,  "as 
if  Northway  really  had  no  intention  of  using  his 
power  to  extort  money.  To  be  sure,  your  own  income 
is  not  to  be  despised  by  a  man  in  his  position;  but 
most  rascals  would  have  gone  to  Mr.  Quarrier. — He  is 
still  in  love  with  you,  I  suppose." 

The  last  words  were  murmured  in  a  tone  which 
caused  the  hearer  to  look  up  uneasily.  Mrs.  Wade 
at  once  averted  her  face,  which  was  curiously  hard 
and  expressionless. 

"  What  do  you  think  ? "  she  said  a  moment  after. 
"  Would  it  be  any  use  if  I  had  a  talk  with  him  ?  " 

"  Will  you  ? "  asked  Lilian,  eagerly.  "  You  may 
perhaps  influence  him.  You  can  speak  so  well — so 
persuasively.  I  don't  think  he  is  utterly  depraved. 
As  you  say,  he  would  have  gone  first  to  Denzil. 
Perhaps  he  can  be  moved  to  have  pity  on  me." 

"  Perhaps — but  I  have  more  faith  in  an  appeal  to  his 
interests." 

"  It  would  be  dreadful  if  Denzil  had  to  live  hence- 
forth at  his  mercy." 

"It  would.  But  it's  a  matter  of — of  life  and 
death." 


242  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

Mrs.  Wade's  voice  sank  on  those  words,  shaking  just 
a  little.  She  put  her  face  nearer  to  Lilian's,  but  with- 
out looking  at  her. 

"  Suppose  no  argument  will  prevail  with  him,  dear  ?  " 
she  continued  in  that  low,  tremulous  tone.  "  Suppose 
he  persists  in  claiming  you  ?  " 

The  voice  had  a  strange  effect  upon  Lilian's  nerves. 
She  shook  with  agitation,  and  drew  away  a  little. 

"  He  cannot !  He  has  no  power  to  take  me !  At  the 
worst,  we  can  only  be  driven  back  into  solitude." 

"True,  dear;  but  it  would  not  be  the  same  kind  of 
solitude  as  before.  Think  of  the  huge  scandal,  the 
utter  ruin  of  brilliant  prospects." 

Lilian  lay  back  and  moaned  in  anguish.  Her  eyes 
were  closed,  and  in  that  moment  Mrs.  Wade  gazed  at 
her  for  a  moment  only;  then  the  widow  rose  from 
her  chair,  and  spoke  in  a  voice  of  encouragement. 

"I  will  see  him,  Lily.  You  remain  here;  I'll  call 
him  into  the  dining-room." 

She  stepped  to  the  window,  and  saw  that  Northway 
was  standing  only  at  a  little  distance.  After  meditating 
for  a  minute  or  two,  she  left  the  room  very  quietly, 
crossed  the  passage,  and  entered  the  room  opposite, 
where  she  generally  took  her  meals.  Here  again  she 
went  to  the  window,  and  again  had  a  good  view  of  the 
man  on  guard.     A  smile  rose  to  her  face. 

Then  she  went  out  and  signalled  to  Northway,  who 
approached  in  an  embarrassed  way,  doing  his  best  to 
hold  his  head  up  and  look  dignified.  Mrs.  Wade 
regarded  him  with  contemptuous  amusement,  but  was 
careful  to  show  nothing  of  this;  her  face  and  tone  as 
she  greeted  him  expressed  more  than  civility — all  but 
deference. 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  243 

"Will  you  do  me  the  kindness  to  enter  for  a  few 
minutes,  Mr.  Northway  ?  " 

He  doffed  his  hat,  smiled  sourly,  and  followed  her 
into  the  little  dining-room.  But  as  she  was  closing 
the  door,  he  interfered. 

"Excuse  me — I  don't  want  that  lady  to  go  away 
until  I  have  seen  her  again." 

Mrs.  AVade  none  the  less  closed  the  door,  holding  her- 
self with  imj)erturbable  politeness. 

"She  is  resting  in  the  next  room.  I  give  you  my 
word,  Mr.  Northway,  that  you  will  find  her  there  when 
our  conversation  is  over." 

He  looked  about  him  with  sullen  uneasiness,  but 
could  not  resist  this  lady's   manner. 

"  Pray  sit  down.     Quite  a  spring  day,  isn't  it  ?  " 

Her  tone  was  melancholy,  tempered  with  the  considera- 
tion of  a  hostess.  Northway  seated  himself  much  as  if 
he  were  in  church.  He  tried  to  examine  Mrs.  Wade's 
face,  but  could  not  meet  her  look.  She,  in  the  mean- 
time, had  got  the  young  man's  visage  by  heart,  had 
studied  the  meaning  of  every  lineament — narrow  eyes, 
sunken  cheeks,  forehead  indicative  of  conceited  intelli- 
gence, Yi'ps  as  clearly  expressive  of  another  characteristic. 
Here,  at  all  events,  was  a  creature  she  could  manage — 
an  instrument — though  to  what  purpose  she  was  not  yet 
perfectly  clear. 

"Mr.  Northway,  I  have  been  listening  to  a  sad,  sad 
story." 

"  Yes,  it  is  sad,"  he  muttered,  feeling  his  inferiority 
to  this  soft-spoken  woman,  and  moving  his  legs  awk- 
wardly. 

"  I  must  mention  to  you  that  my  name  is  Mrs.  Wade. 
I  have  known  Lilian  since  she  came  to  live  at  Polter- 


244  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

ham — only  since  then.  That's  a  very  short  time  ago, 
but  we  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  each  other,  and  have 
become  intimate  friends.  I  need  not  tell  yon  that  I 
never  had  the  faintest  suspicion  of  what  I  have  just 
learnt." 

This  was  said  certainly  not  in  a  voice  of  indignation, 
but  with  a  sadness  which  implied  anything  but  approval. 
Northway,  after  trying  to  hold  his  hat  in  a  becoming 
way,  placed  it  on  the  floor,  clicking  with  his  tongue  the 
while  and  betraying  much  nervousness. 

"You  are  of  course  aware,"  pursued  the  lady,  "that 
Mr.  Denzil  Quarrier  is  Liberal  candidate  for  this 
borough  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know." 

"  Until  to-day,  he  had  every  prospect  of  being  elected. 
It  is  a  shocking  thing — I  hardly  know  how  to  express 
myself  about  it." 

"  If  this  gets  known,"  said  Northway,  "  I  suppose  he 
has  no  chance  ?  " 

"  How  would  it  be  possible  to  vote  for  a  man  who  has 
outraged  the  law  on  which  all  social  life  is  based  ?  He 
would  retire  immediately — no  doubt." 

Regarding  this  event  as  certain  in  any  case,  the 
listener  merely  nodded. 

*'  That,  I  dare  say,  doesn't  interest  you  ?  " 

"  I  take  no  part  in  politics." 

"And  it  is  quite  a  matter  of  indifference  to  you 
whether  Mr.  Quarrier's  career  is  ruined  or  not  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  should  think  much  about  a  man 
who  has  injured  me  as  he  has." 

"No,"  conceded  Mrs.  Wade,  sadly.  "I  understand 
that  you  have  nothing  whatever  in  view  but  recovering 
your  wife  ?  " 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  245 

"That's  all  I  want." 

"  And  yet,  Mr.  Northway.  I'm  sure  you  see  how  very 
difficult  it  will  be  for  you  to  gain  this  end." 

She  leaned  towards  him  symj^athetieally.  Northway 
shuffled,  sucked  in  his  cheeks,  and  spoke  in  as  civil  a 
tone  as  he  could  command. 

"There  are  difficulties,  I  know.  I  don't  ask  her  to 
come  at  once  and  live  with  me.  I  couldn't  expect  that. 
But  I  am  determined  she  sha'n't  go  hack  to  Mr. 
Quarrier.     I  have  a  right  to  forbid  it." 

"Indeed — abstractly  si^eaking — I  think  you  have," 
murmured  Mrs.  Wade,  with  a  glance  towards  the  door. 
"But  I  grieve  to  tell  you  that  there  seems  to  me  no 
possibility  of  preventing  her  return." 

"I  shall  have  to  use  what  means  I  can.  You  say 
ISlr.  Quarrier  wouldn't  care  to  have  this  made  public 
just  now." 

He  knew  (or  imagined)  that  the  threat  was  idle,  but 
it  seemed  to  him  that  Mrs.  Wade,  already  favourably 
disposed,  might  be  induced  to  counsel  Lilian  for  the 
avoidance  of  a  scandal  at  this  moment. 

"  Mr.  Xorthway,"  rej^lied  the  widow,  "  I  almost  think 
that  he  would  care  less  for  such  a  disclosure  before  this 
election  than  after  it." 

He  met  her  eyes,  and  tried  to  understand  her.  But 
whatever  she  meant,  it  could  be  of  no  imj)ortance  to 
him.  Quarrier  was  doomed  by  the  Tory  agent;  on  this 
knowledge  he  congratulated  himself,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  another  state  of  things  would  have  been  more  to 
his  interest. 

"I  have  really  nothing  to  do  with  that,"  he  replied. 
"  My  wife  is  living  a  life  of  wickedness — and  she  shall 
be  saved  from  it  at  once." 


246 


DENZIL  QUARRIER 


Mrs.  Wade  had  mucli  difficulty  in  keeping  lier  coun- 
tenance.    She  looked  down,  and  drew  a  deep  sigh. 

"  That  is  only  too  true.  But  I  fear — indeed  I  fear 
— that  you  won't  succeed  in  parting  them.  There  is  a 
reason — I  cannot  mention  it." 

Northway  was  puzzled  for  a  moment,  then  his  face 
darkened;  he  seemed  to  understand. 

"I  do  so  wish/'  pursued  Mrs.  Wade,  with  a  smile  of 
sympathy,  "that  I  could  be  of  some  use  in  this  sad 
affair.  My  advice — I  am  afraid  you  will  be  very  un- 
willing to  listen  to  it." 

She  paused,  looking  at  him  wistfully. 

"  What  would  it  be  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  feel  so  strongly — just  as  you  do — that  it  is  dread- 
ful to  have  to  countenance  such  a  state  of  things;  but 
I  am  convinced  that  it  would  be  very,  very  unwise  if  you 
went  at  once  to  extremities,  Mr.  Northway.  I  am  a 
woman  of  the  world;  I  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  life; 
if  you  allowed  yourself  to  be  guided  by  me,  you  would 
not  regret  it." 

"You  want  to  save  your  friends  from  the  results  of 
their  behaviour,"  he  replied,  uneasily. 

"I  assure  you,  it's  not  so  much  that — no,  I  have 
you7'  interests  in  view  quite  as  much  as  theirs.  Now, 
seeing  that  Lilian  cannot  possibly  take  her  place  as  your 
wife  in  fact,  and  that  it  is  practically  impossible  to  part 
her  from  Mr.  Quarrier,  wouldn't  it  be  well  to  ask  your- 
self what  is  the  most  prudent  course  that  circumstances 
allow?" 

"  If  it  comes  to  that,  I  can  always  get  a  divorce." 

Mrs.  Wade  reflected,  but  with  no  sign  of  satis- 
faction. 

"Yes,  that  is  open  to  you.    You   would   then,  of 


DENZIL   QUAERIER  24T 

course,  be  enabled  to  marry  again. — May  I  ask  if 
you  are  quite  at  ease  with  regard  to  your  prospects  in 
life  ?  " 

The  tone  Avas  so  delicately  impertinent  that  North- 
way  missed  its  significance. 

"  I  haven't  quite  decided  upon  anything  yet." 

"Judging  from  your  conversation,  I  should  say  that 
you  will  yet  find  a  place  among  active  and  successful 
men.  But  the  beginning  is  everything.  If  I  could  be 
of  any  assistance  to  you — I  would  put  it  to  you  frankly, 
Mr.  Northway :  is  it  worth  while  sacrificing  very  solid 
possibilities  to  your — your  affection  for  a  woman  who 
has  deserted  you  ?  " 

He  shuffled  on  the  chair,  clicked  with  his  tongue,  and 
looked  about  him  undecidedly. 

"  I  am  not  to  be  bribed  to  act  against  my  conscience," 
he  said  at  length. 

Mrs.  Wade  heard  this  with  pleasure.  Tlie  blunt, 
half-blustering  declaration  assured  her  that  Northway's 
"  conscience  "  was  on  the  point  of  surrender. 

"  Now,  let  me  tell  you  what  I  should  like  to  do,"  she 
continued,  bending  towards  him.  "  Will  you  allow  me 
to  go  at  once  and  see  Mr.  Quarrier  ?  " 

"And  tell  him?" 

"  Yes,  let  him  know  what  has  happened.  I  quite 
understand,"  she  added,  caressingly,  "  how  very  painful 
it  would  be  for  you  to  go  directly  to  him.  Will  you 
allow  me  to  be  your  intermediary  ?  That  you  and  he 
must  meet  is  quite  certain;  may  I  smooth  away  the 
worst  difficulties  ?  I  could  explain  to  him  jour 
character,  your  natural  delicacy,  your  conscientiousness. 
I  could  make  him  understand  that  he  has  to  meet  a 
person  quite  on  his  own  level — an  educated  man  of 


248  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

honourable  feeling.  After  that,  an  interview  between 
you  would  be  comparatively  easy.  I  should  be  really 
gi'ateful  to  you  if  you  would  allow  me  to  do  you  this 
service." 

Northway  was  like  clay  in  her  hands.  Every  word 
had  jjrecisely  the  effect  on  which  she  calculated.  His 
forehead  unwrinkled  itself,  his  lips  hung  loose  like  the 
mouth  of  a  dog  that  is  fondled,  he  tried  not  to  smile. 
Though  he  thought  himself  as  far  as  ever  from  renounc- 
ing Lilian,  he  began  to  like  the  idea  of  facing  Quarrier — 
of  exhibiting  his  natural  delicacy,  conscientiousness,  and 
so  on.  Something  was  in  the  background,  but  of  that 
he  took  no  deliberate  account. 

A  few  minutes  more,  and  Mrs.  AVade  had  him 
entirely  at  her  disposal.  It  was  arranged  that,  whilst 
she  went  into  the  town  to  discover  Quarrier,  Northway 
should  remain  on  guard,  either  in  or  about  the  cottage. 
Luncheon  would  be  provided  for  him.  He  promised 
not  to  molest  Lilian,  on  condition  that  she  made  no 
attempt  to  escape. 

"She  will  stay  where  she  is,"  Mrs.  "Wade  assured  him. 
"Your  natural  delicacy  will,  I  am  sure,  prevent  you  from 
seeking  to  hold  conversation  with  her.  She  is  very  weak, 
poor  thing!  I  do  hope  no  serious  illness  will  follow  on 
this  shock." 

Thereupon  she  returned  to  the  sitting-room,  Avhere 
Lilian  stood  in  an  anguish  of  imjjatience. 

"  I  think  I  shall  manage  it,  dear,"  she  whispered,  in  a 
tone  of  affectionate  encouragement.  "  He  has  consented 
to  see  Mr.  Quarrier,  provided  I  go  first  and  break  the 
news." 

"  You,  Mrs.  Wade  ?    You  are  going  to  see  Denzil  ?  '* 

"  Dearest  girl,  leave  it  all  in  my  hands.     You  cannot 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  249 

think  what  difficulties  I  have  overcome.  If  I  am  allowed 
to  act  freely,  I  shall  save  you  and  him." 

She  explained  the  articles  of  truce,  Lilian  listening 
with  distressful  hope. 

"  And  I  don't  think  he  will  interfere  with  you  mean- 
while. But  you  can  keep  the  door  locked,  you  know. 
Annie  shall  bring  you  something  to  eat;  I  will  tell  her 
to  give  him  liis  luncheon  first,  and  then  to  come  very 
quietly  with  yours.  It  is  half-past  twelve.  I  can  hardly 
be  back  in  less  than  an  hour  and  a  half.  No  doubt,  Mr. 
Quarrier  will  come  with  me." 

"  How  good  you  are,  dear  Mrs.  Wade !  Oh,  if  you  can 
save  him ! " 

"  Trust  me,  and  try  to  sit  quietly.  Now,  I  will  be  off 
at  once." 

She  pressed  the  hand  that  was  held  to  her,  nodded, 
and  left  the  room. 


XXII 

It  was  striking  one  when  Mrs.  Wade  came  in  sight 
of  the  Quarriers'  house.  At  this  hour  Quarrier  was 
expected  at  home  for  luncheon.  He  arrived  whilst  the 
visitor  still  waited  for  an  answer  to  her  ring  at  the 
door. 

"  But  haven't  you  seen  Lily  ?     She  told  me  " 

"  Yes,  I  have  seen  her.     She  is  at  the  cottage." 

A  peculiarity  in  her  tone  arrested  his  attention,  and 
the  look  of  joyous  excitement  which  had  been  fixed 
upon  his  face  these  last  few  days  changed  to  anxious 
inquiry. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  " 

"  She  is  quite  well — don't  imagine  accidents.  But  I 
must  speak  to  you  in  private." 

The  door  had  opened.  Denzil  led  straightway  to  the 
library,  where  he  flung  aside  hat  and  overcoat. 

"  What  is  it,  Mrs.  Wade  ?  " 

She  stood  close  before  him,  her  eyes  on  his.  The 
rapid  walk  had  brought  colour  to  her  cheek,  and  per- 
haps to  the  same  cause  was  attributable  her  quickened 
breathing. 

"  Lily  has  been  discovered  by  an  enemy  of  hers  and 
yours.     A  man  named  Northwa'y." 

"  Damnation ! " 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  251 

He  felt  far  too  strongly  to  moderate  his  utterance 
out  of  regard  for  the  listener.  His  features  were 
distorted;  he  stared  wrathfuUy. 

"  And  you  have  left  her  with  him  ?     Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  is  quite  safe  in  my  sitting-room — the  key 
turned  to  protect  her.  He,  too,  is  in  the  house,  in 
another  room.     I  have  gained  time;  I" 

He  could  not  listen. 

"  How  did  it  happen  ? — You  had  no  right  to  leave 
her  alone  with  him  I — How  has  he  found  her  ?  " 

"  Please  don't  eat  me  up,  Mr.  Quarrier !  I  have  been 
doing  my  very  best  for  you." 

And  she  told  him  the  story  of  the  morning  as  briefly 
as  possible.  Her  endeavour  to  keep  a  tone  of  perfect 
equanimity  failed  in  the  course  of  the  narrative;  once 
or  twice  there  was  a  catching  in  her  breath,  and,  as  if 
annoyed  with  herself,  she  made  an  impatient  gesture. 

"And  this  fellow,"  cried  Quarrier,  when  she  ceased, 
"imagines  that  I  am  at  his  mercy!  Let  him  do  what 
he  likes — let  him  go  into  the  market-place  and  shout 
his  news  I — We'll  go  back  at  once." 

"  You  are  prepared,  then,  to  have  this  known  all  over 
Polterham?"  Mrs.  Wade  asked,  looking  steadily  at 
him. 

"  I  don't  care  a  jot !  Let  the  election  go  to  the 
devil!  Do  you  think  I  will  submit  Lily  to  a  day  of 
such  torture  ?  This  very  evening  we  go  to  London. 
How  does  she  bear  it  ?  " 

"  Very  well  indeed." 

"Like  a  brave,  good  girl  !  Do  you  think  I  would 
weigh  the  chance  of  election  against  her  misery  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  was  the  cold  answer,  "  that  you 
have  done  so  already." 


-53  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

"  Has  she  complained  to  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,   uo  !     But    I    understand    now    Avhat    always 

puzzled  me.     I  understand  her  " 

She  checked  herself,  and  turned  quietly  from  him. 
Strategy  must  always  be  liable  to  slips  from  one  cause 
or  another,  and  Mrs.  Wade's  prudence  had,  for  the 
moment,  yielded  to  her  impulses. 

"  You  think  she  has  all  along  been  unhappy  ?  " 
"  No,  nothing  of  the  kind.  But  when  we  have  been 
speaking  of  the  position  of  women — that  kind  of 
thing — I  have  noticed  something  strange — an  anxiety. 
I  was  only  going  to  say  that,  after  having  succeeded 
thus  far,  it  seems  a  pity  to  lose  everything  when   a 

little  prudence  " 

She  waved  her  hand. 

*'  Do  you  believe,"  Denzil  asked,  "  that  his  story  of 
finding  her  by  mere  chance  is  true  ?  " 

"  Lilian  tells  me  that  only  your  most  intimate  friend 
shared  the  secret." 

"  Glazzard  ?     Of  course  he  has  nothing  to  do  with  it. 

But  some  one  else  may  have  " 

He  walked  apart,  brooding.  Mrs.  Wade  seated  her- 
self, and  became  thoughtful. 

"  What  sort  of  a  fellow  is  this  ?  "  Quarrier  asked,  of 
a  sudden. 

"  It  depends  who  is  dealing  with  him,"  she  answered, 
meeting  his  look  with  eyes  full  of  sympathetic  expres- 
sion. "  I  read  him  at  once,  and  managed  him.  He  is 
too  weak  for  serious  villainy.  He  doesn't  seem  to  have 
thought  of  extorting  money  from  you.  Lilian  was 
his  only  object.  He  would  have  taken  her  away  by 
force." 

*'  Come — we  mustn't  lose  time." 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  253 

"  Mr.  Quarrier,  do  be  calm,  and  let  us  talk  before  we 
go.  She  is  quite  safe.  And  as  for  Xorthway,  I  am 
perfectly  sure  that  you  can  keep  him  silent." 

"  You  think  it  possible  ?  " 

"If  you  will  consent  to  follow  in  the  path  I  have 
prepared.     I  have  taken  no  small  trouble." 

She  looked  up  at  him  and  smiled. 

"  You  have  behaved  like  a  true  friend,  Mrs.  Wade — 
it  is  no  more  than  I  should  have  exjDected  of  you.  But 
what  have  you  planned  ?  Think  how  this  secret  has 
already  spread — what  hope  is  there  orf  finally  hushing 
it  up  ?  Glazzard  and  you  would  never  breathe  a 
syllable;  but  how,  short  of  manslaughter,  could  I 
assure  the  silence  of  a  blackguard  like  this  Northway  ? 
If  I  let  him  blackmail  me,  I  am  done  for:  I  should 
be  like  the  fools  in  plays  and  novels,  throwing  half  my 
possessions  away,  and  all  in  vain." 

"  Pray  remember,"  urged  the  other,  '*'  that  this 
Northway  is  by  no  means  the  rascal  of  melodrama.  He 
has  just  enough  brains  to  make  him  conceited,  and  is  at 
the  disposal  of  any  one  who  plays  upon  his  conceit. 
"With  much  trouble  I  induced  him  to  regard  you  as  a 
source  of  profit."  She  broke  off  and  seemed  to  falter. 
"  I  think  you  won't  find  fault  with  me,  Mr.  Quarrier, 
for  trying  to  do  this  ?  " 

"  You  did  it  in  the  friendlifest  spirit." 

"  And  not  indiscreetly,  I  hope."  She  looked  at  him 
for  a  moment,  and  continued :  "  He  is  bribable,  but  you 
must  go  to  work  carefully.  For  instance,  I  think  if  you 
offered  to  give  him  a  good  start  in  a  commercial  career — 
by  your  personal  recommendation,  I  mean — that  would 
have  more  effect  than  an  offer  of  money.  And  then, 
again,  in  this  way  you  guard  yourself  against  the  perils 


354  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

of  which  you  were  speaking.  Place  him  well,  so  that 
he  considers  himself  a  respectable,  responsible  man,  and 
for  his  own  sake  he  won't  torment  you.  Couldn't  you 
send  him  to  some  one  over  in  Sweden— some  house  of 
business  ?  " 

Denzil  pondered,  with  knitted  brows. 

"I  have  no  faith  in  it!"  he  exclaimed  at  length, 
beginning  to  walk  about.  "  Come— I  want  to  get  to 
Lilian;  she  must  be  in  misery.  I  will  order  the 
carriage;  it  will  be  needed  to  bring  her  back." 

He  rang  the  bSll  violently;  a  servant  appeared,  and 
hurried  away  to  do  his  bidding. 

"  Mrs.  Wade,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  the  door  had  closed, 
"shouldn't  I  do  better  to  throw  up  the  game?  I 
hate  these  underhand  affairs!  I  don't  think  I  could 
go  through  with  the  thing— I  don't,  indeed!  Speak 
your  whole  mind.  I  am  not  a  slave  of  ambition— at 
bottom  I  care  precious  little  for  going  into  Parlia- 
ment. I  enjoyed  the  excitement  of  it— I  believe  I 
have  a  knack  of  making  speeches;  but  what  does  it 
all  amount  to?  Tell  me  your  true  thought."  He 
drew  near  to  her.  "Shall  I  throw  it  up  and  go 
abroad  with  my  wife  ?— my  wife !  that  is  her  true 
name  V 

He  looked  a  fine  fellow  as  he  spoke  this;  better 
than  he  had  looked  on  the  platform.  Mrs.  Wade 
gazed  at  him  fixedly,  as  if  she  could  not  take  away 
her  eyes.  She  trembled,  and  her  forehead  was  wrung 
with  pain. 

"Do  this,"  she  replied,  eagerly,  "if  you  wish  to 
make  Lilian  unhappy  for  the  rest  of  her  life." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"It  seems  I  understand  her  better  than  you  do— 


DEXZIL   QUARRIER  255 

perhaps  because  I  am  a  woman.  She  dreads  nothing  so 
much  as  the  thouglit  that  she  has  been  the  ruin  of  your 
prospects.  You  have  taught  her  to  believe  that  you  are 
made  for  jDolitics;  you  can  never  undo  that.  The 
excitement  of  this  election  had  fixed  the  belief  in  her 
for  ever.  For  her  sake,  you  are  bound  to  make  every 
attemj^t  to  choke  this  scandal  !  Be  weak— give  in — 
and  (she  is  weak  too)  it's  all  over  with  her  happiness. 
Her  life  would  be  nothing  but  self-reproach." 

"No,  no,  no  !  For  a  short  time,  perhaps,  but 
security  would  be  the  best  thing  of  all  for  her." 

"  Try,  then — try,  and  see  the  result  !  " 

She  spoke  Avith  suj^pressed  passion,  her  voice  sliaking. 
Denzil  turned  away,  struggled  with  his  thoughts, 
again  faced  her.  Mrs.  Wade  read  his  features  as  if 
her  life  depended  on  what  he  would  resolve.  Seeing 
him  in  a  misery  of  indecision,  she  repeated,  at  greater 
length  and  more  earnestly  still,  her  cogent  reason- 
ings. Quarrier  argued  in  reply,  and  they  were  still 
thus  engaged  when  it  was  announced  that  the  carriage 
waited. 

"  Let  us  go  !  "  He  threw  his  overcoat  on  to  his 
shoulders. 

Mrs.  Wade  caught  his  hand. 

"  Are  you  bent  on  doing  the  hopeless  thing  ?  " 

"Let  us  talk  in  the  carriage.  I  can't  wait  any 
longer." 

But  in  the  carriage  both  kept  silence.  Mrs.  Wade, 
exhausted  by  stress  of  emotion,  by  the  efforts  of  her 
scheming  brain,  lay  back  as  if  she  had  abandoned  the 
contest;  Denzil,  his  face  working  ceaselessly,  stared 
tlirough  the  windows.  When  they  were  nearing  their 
destination,  the  widow  leaned  towards  him. 


256  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  I  have  done  my  best  for  you.  I  have  nothing  so 
much  at  heart  as  your  welfare — and  Lilian's." 

He  pressed  her  hand,  too  much  disturbed  to  think  of 
the  singular  way  in  Avhich  she  spoke.  Then  the 
vehicle  stopped,  Denzil  assisted  his  companion  to 
alight,  and,  whilst  she  was  opening  the  house-door,  bade 
the  coachman  go  wp  and  down  till  he  was  summoned. 
Then  he  sprang  after  Mrs.  Wade,  learnt  from  her  where 
Lilian  was,  and  at  once  tried  to  enter  the  sitting-room. 
The  door  was  locked. 

"Lily  !"  he  called,  in  a  low  voice.  "Open,  dear  ! 
It  is  I  !  " 

The  key  turned  rapidly.  He  rushed  in,  and  clasped 
Lilian  in  his  arms.  She  could  not  utter  a  word,  but 
clung  to  him  sobbing  and  wailing, 

"  Don't  ! — don't,  dear  girlie  !  Try  to  be  quiet — try 
to  command  yourself." 

"  Can  you  do  anything  ? "  she  uttered  at  length. 
"  Is  there  any  hope  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  wish,  Lily,  dearest  ?  What  shall  I 
do?" 

The  common  sense  of  manliness  urged  him  to  put  no 
such  questions,  to  carry  her  away  without  a  word,  save 
of  tender  devotion,  to  escape  with  her  into  quietness, 
and  let  all  else  go  as  it  would.  But  Mrs.  Wade's 
warning  had  impressed  him  deejjly.  It  went  with  his 
secret  inclination;  for,  at  this  stage  of  the  combat,  to 
lose  all  his  aims  would  be  a  bitter  disappointment. 
He  thought  of  the  lifelong  ostracism,  and  feared  it  in 
a  vague  way. 

"  Mrs.  Wade  thinks  he  can  be  persuaded  to  leave  us 
alone,"  Lilian  rei^lied,  hurriedly,  using  simple  words 
which  made  her  seem  childlike,  though  at  the  same 


DENZIL  QtJARRIER  257 

moment  she  was  nerving  herself  to  heroic  effort. 
"  See  him,  and  do  what  you  can,  Denzil.  I  did  my 
utmost,  dear.  Oh,  this  cruel  chance  that  brought  him 
here  ! " 

She  would  have  given  years  of  her  life  to  say 
"Sacrifice  all,  and  let  us  go  !"  He  seemed  even  to 
invite  her  to  say  it,  but  she  strove  with  herself. 
Sacrifice  of  his  career  meant  sacrifice  of  the  whole  man, 
Not  in  /ier  eyes,  oh  no  ! — but  she  had  studied  him  so  well, 
and  knew  that  he  could  no  longer  be  content  in  obscurity. 
She  choked  her  very  soul's  desire. 

"Shall  I  try  to  buy  him  off,  Lily  ?" 

"Do  try,  darling!" 

"  But  can  you  face  what  will  come  afterwards — the 
constant  risks  ?  " 

"Anything  rather  than  that  you  shall  be  ruined  !  " 

A  syllable  would  have  broken  down  her  heroism.  It 
was  on  his  tongue.  He  had  but  to  say  "Euin  ! — 
what  do  I  care  for  ruin  in  that  sense  ?"  and  she  would 
have  cried  with  delight.     But  he  kejit  it  back. 

"  Sit  down  and  wait  for  me.     I  will  go  and  see  him." 

One  more  embrace,  and  he  left  her.  Mrs.  Wade  was 
talking  with  Northway  in  the  dining-room,  talking 
hurriedly  and  earnestly.  She  heard  Quarrier's  step 
and  came  to  the  door. 

"  In  here  ?  "  Denzil  asked. 

She  nodded  and  came  out.  Then  the  door  closed 
behind  him. 

Northway  stood  near  the  window.  He  had  eaten 
— ^luncheon  was  still  on  the  table — and  had  been  smok- 
ing to  calm  his  nerves,  but  at  the  sight  of  Quarrier  he 
became  agitated.  They  inspected  each  other.  Denzil's 
impulse  was  to  annihilate  his  contemptible  enemy  Avith 


258  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

fierceness  of  look  and  word;  and  in  Northway  jealousy 
fought  so  strongly  with  prudence  that  a  word  of  anger 
would  have  driven  him  to  revengeful  determination. 
But  a  few  moments  of  silence  averted  this  danger. 
Quarrier  said  to  himself  that  there  was  no  use  in  half 
measures.  He  had  promised  Lilian  to  do  his  best,  and 
his  own  desire  pointed  to  the  same  end.  Swallowing 
his  gall,  he  spoke  quietly. 

"Mr.  Northway,  we  can't  talk  as  if  we  were 
friends;  but  1  must  remember  that  you  have  never 
intentionally  done  me  any  wrong — that  it  is  /  who  am 
immediately  to  blame  for  this  state  of  things.  I  hope 
you  will  talk  it  over  with  me  " 

His  voice  failed,  but  the  first  step  had  been  taken. 
He  sat  down,  motioning  the  other  to  a  chair. 

"I  can't  allow  my  wife  to  live  any  longer  in  this 
way,"  began  the  adversary,  with  blundering  attempt  at 
dignified  speech. 

"My  wife"  was  like  a  blow  to  Denzil;  he  flushed, 
started,  yet  controlled  himself.  What  Mrs.  Wade  had 
told  him  of  Northway's  characteristics  came  into  his 
mind,  and  he  saw  that  this  address  might  be  mere 
bluster, 

"It's  very  natural  for  you  to  speak  in  that  way; 
but  there  is  no  undoing  what  has  happened.  I  must 
say  that  at  once,  and  as  firmly  as  possible.  We  may 
talk  of  how  I  can  compensate  you  for — for  the  injury ; 
but  of  nothing  else." 

He  ended  with  much  mental  objurgation,  which 
swelled  his  throat. 

"  You  can't  compensate  a  man,"  returned  Northway, 
"  for  an  injury  of  this  kind." 

"  Strictly  speaking,  no.     But  as  it  can't  be  helped — 


DEXZIL  QUARRIER  259 

as  I  wronged  you  without  knowing  you — I  tliink  I  may 
reasonably  offer  to  do  you  whatever  good  turn  is  in  my 
power.  Please  to  tell  me  one  thing.  Have  you  spoken 
to  any  one  except  Mrs.  Wade  of  what  you  have  dis- 
covered ?  " 

"No — to  no  one." 

It  might  be  true  or  not.  Denzil  could  only  hope  it 
was,  and  proceed  on  that  assumption. 

"  I  am  sure  I  may  trust  your  word,"  he  said,  begin- 
ning to  use  diplomacy,  with  the  immediate  result  that 
Northway's  look  encouraged  him.  "Now,  please  tell 
me  another  thing,  as  frankly.  Can  I,  as  a  man  of  some 
means  and  influence,  offer  you  any  acceptable  service  ?  " 

There  was  silence.  Northway  could  not  shape  a 
reply. 

"'  You  have  been  in  commerce,  I  think  ?  "  proceeded 
the  other.  "  Should  you  care  to  take  a  place  in  some 
good  house  of  business  on  the  Continent,  or  elsewhere 
abroad  ?  I  think  it's  in  my  power  to  open  a  way  for 
you  such  as  you  would  not  easily  make  by  your  own 
exertions." 

The  listener  was  suffering.  But  for  one  thing,  this 
offer  would  have  tempted  him  strongly;  but  that  one 
thing  made  it  idle  for  him  to  think  of  what  was 
proposed.  To-day  or  to-morrow  Quarrier  would  be 
exposed  by  his  plotting  enemies,  and  thereupon  any 
bargain  made  with  reference  to  the  future  must  collapse. 
If  he  were  to  profit  by  Quarrier  at  all,  it  must  needs 
be  in  the  shape  of  a  payment  which  could  not  be 
recovered. 

"I  don't  care  to  go  into  business  again,"  he  said, 
with  a  mingling  of  real  annoyance  and  affected 
superiority.     "  I  have  other  views." 


260  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  Can  I  help  to  advance  them  ? "'  asked  Denzil, 
sickening  under  the  necessity  of  speaking  fair. 

The  dialogue  lasted  for  half  an  hour  more.  Jealousy 
notwithstanding,  Northway  had  made  up  his  mind  to 
gain  what  was  to  be  gained.  Lilian  was  beyond  his 
reach;  it  would  be  foolish  to  go  back  to  his  poverty 
and  cloudy  outlook  when  solid  assistance  was  held  out 
to  him.  With  much  posturing  and  circumlocution,  he 
came  at  length  to  the  avowal  that  a  sum  of  ready  money 
would  not  be  refused. 

"  Are  you  wise  in  preferring  this  to  the  other  kind  of 
help  ?  "  Denzil  urged. 

"  I  have  my  own  views." 

Quarrier  ridiculed  himself  for  what  he  was  doing. 
How  could  he  pretend  to  trust  such  a  fellow  ?  Again, 
there  was  only  the  hope  that  a  bribe  might  be 
efficacious. 

"  I  will  give  you  five  hundred  pounds/'  he  said,  "on 
condition  that  you  leave  England  at  once." 

The  bid  was  too  low.  Northway  would  be  satisfied 
with  twice  as  much,  provided  it  were  paid  forthwith. 
Pondering,  Quarrier  decided  that  he  was  about  to 
commit  an  absurdity.  A  thousand  pounds — and  how 
much  more  in  future  ?     He  looked  Northway  in  the  eyes. 

"  Here  is  my  last  word.  I  don't  greatly  care  whether 
this  secret  comes  out  or  not.  If  I  am  to  be  at  your 
mercy  henceforth,  I  had  rather  bid  you  do  what  you 
like;  it  really  doesn't  matter  much  to  me.  I  will  give 
you  five  hundred  pounds  at  once — a  cheque  on  a 
Polterham  banker;  moreover,  if  my  secret  is  kept,  I 
will  do  you  the  other  service  I  offered.  But  that's  all  I 
have  to  say.  If  it  doesn't  suit  you,  you  must  do  what 
you  please." 


DENZIL  QUARRTER  261 

His  boldness  was  successful.  North  way  could  gain 
nothing  by  betrayal  of  the  secret — which  he  believed 
to  be  no  secret  at  all.  With  show  of  indifference,  he 
accepted  what  was  obtainable. 

"  Then  come  and  drive  with  me  into  the  town/'  said 
Denzil. 

Thereupon  he  stej^ped  out  and  entered  the  sitting- 
room,  where  the  two  women  were  together.  They 
looked  eager  inquiry,  and  he  smiled. 

"  Managed,  I  think.  He  goes  with  me.  Lily,  I'll  be 
back  for  you  as  soon  as  possible." 

A  moment,  and  they  watched  the  carriage  roll  away. 


XXIII 


This  evening  there  was  a  great  dinner-party  at  Colonel 
Catesby's;  a  political  dinner.  Lilian  had  carefully  pre- 
pared for  the  occasion.  In  Quarrier's  opinion,  she 
would  far  outshine  her  previous  appearances;  she  was 
to  wear  certain  jewels  which  he  had  purchased  on  a 
recent  visit  to  town— at  an  outlay  of  which  he  preferred 
to  say  nothing  definite.  "  They  are  the  kind  of  thing," 
he  remarked,  with  a  significant  smile,  "that  can  be 
passed  on  to  one's  children." 

But  would  it  be  possible  for  her  to  keep  the  engage- 
ment ?  Through  the  afternoon  she  lay  in  her  bedroom 
with  drawn  blinds,  endeavouring  to  sleep.  Once  or 
twice  Denzil  entered,  very  softly,  and  stood  by  her  for 
a  moment;  she  looked  at  him  and  smiled,  but  did  not 
speak.  At  half-past  six  he  brought  her  tea  with  his 
own  hand.  Declaring  herself  quite  recovered,  she 
rose. 

"This  is  no  such  important  affair  that  you  must  go 
at  all  costs,"  he  said,  regarding  her  anxiously.  "Say 
you  feel  unable,  and  I'll  send  a  message  at  once." 

Already  she  had  assured  him  that  it  would  disappoint 
her  greatly  not  to  go.  Lilian  meant,  of  course,  that  she 
could  not  bear  to  disappoint  Mm,  and  to  make  confusion 
in  their  hostess's  arrangements.     There  was  a  weight 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  2G3 

upon  her  heart  which  made  it  a  great  effort  even  to 
move,  to  speak;  but  she  hoped  to  find  strength  when 
the  time  came. 

"  You  are  quite  sure  that  he  has  gone,  Denzil — gone 
for  good  ?  " 

"  I  am  perfectly  sure  of  it.  You  needn't  have  another 
moment's  fear." 

He  tried  to  believe  it.  By  this  time,  if  he  had  kept 
his  promise,  North  way  was  in  London.  But  what  faith 
was  to  be  put  in  such  a  man's  declarations  ?  It  might 
be  that  the  secret  was  already  known  to  other  people; 
between  now  and  polling-day  there  might  come  the 
crowning  catastrophe.  Yet  the  man's  interest  seemed 
to  impose  silence  upon  him,  and  for  Lilian's  sake  it  was 
necessary  to  affect  absolute  confidence. 

They  went  to  the  dinner,  and  the  evening  passed 
without  accident.  Lilian  was  universally  admired; 
pallor  heightened  her  beauty,  and  the  assurance  of  out- 
lived danger  which  Denzil  had  succeeded  in  imparting 
gave  to  her  conversation  a  life  and  glow  that  excited 
interest  in  all  who  spoke  with  her. 

"Mr.  Quarrier,"  said  the  hostess,  playfully,  in  an 
aside,  "if  you  were  defeated  at  Polterham,  I  don't 
think  you  ought  to  care  much.  You  have  already  been 
elected  by  such  a  charming  constituency!" 

But  there  followed  a  night  of  sleeplessness.  If 
exhaustion  pressed  down  her  eyelids  for  a  moment, 
some  image  of  dread  flashed  upon  her  brain  and  caused 
her  to  start  up  with  a  cry.  Himself  worn  out  and 
suffering  a  reaction  of  despondency,  Quarrier  more  than 
once  repented  what  he  had  done.  In  Lilian's  state  of 
health  such  a  shock  as  this  might  have  results  that 
would  endanger  her  life.     She  had  not  a  strong  consti- 


ICA 


DENZIL  QUARRIER 


tutiou;  he  recalled  the  illness  of  a  year  ago,  and  grew 
so  anxious  that  his  fits  of  slumber  gave  him  no  refresh- 
ment. In  the  early  dawn,  finding  that  she  was  awake, 
he  spoke  to  her  of  the  necessity  of  avoiding  excitement 
during  the  next  few  days. 

"  I  wish  you  could  go  away  till  the  affair  is  over." 

"  Oh,  there  is  no  need  of  that !  I  couldn't  be  away 
from  you." 

"  Then  at  all  events  keep  quietly  at  home.  There'll 
be  the  deuce  of  an  uproar  everywhere  to-day." 

"  We  shall  lunch  at  Mary's,  you  know.  I  had  rather 
be  there  than  sitting  alone." 

"  Well,  Molly  will  be  good  company  for  you,  I  dare 
say.  But  do  try  not  to  excite  yourself.  Don't  talk 
much;  we'll  tell  them  you  are  very  tired  after  last 
night.  As  soon  as  ever  the  fight  is  done,  we'll  be  off 
somewhere  or  other  for  a  few  weeks.  Don't  get  up  till 
midday;  anything  interesting  you  shall  know  at  once." 

At  breakfast  Denzil  received  a  note  from  Mrs.  Wade, 
sent  by  hand.  "  Do  let  me  know  how  Lilian  is.  The 
messenger  will  wait  for  a  reply."  He  wrote  an  answer 
of  warm  friendliness,  signing  it,  "  Ever  sincerely  yours." 
Mrs.  Wade  had  impressed  him  with  her  devotion;  he 
thought  of  her  with  gratitude  and  limitless  confidence. 

"  If  it  had  been  Molly,  instead,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"I  can't  be  at  all  sure  how  she  would  have  behaved. 
Eeligion  and  the  proprieties  might  have  been  too  much 
for  her  good  nature;  yes,  they  ivould  have  been.  After 
all,  these  emancipated  women  are  the  most  trustworthy, 
and  Mrs.  Wade  is  the  best  example  I  have  yet  known." 

When  Mrs.  Liversedge  welcomed  her  sister-in-law  at 
luncheon,  she  was  stricken  with  alarm. 

"  My  dear  girl,  you  look  like  a  ghost !     This  won't 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  265 

do,"  she  added,  in  a  wbisiser,  presently.  "You  must 
keep  quiet!  *' 

But  the  Liversedges'  house  was  no'  place  for  quiet- 
ness. Two  or  three  vigorous  partisans  put  in  an 
appearance  at  the  meal,  and  talked  with  noisy  exhilara- 
tion. Tobias  himself  had  yielded  to  the  spirit  of  the 
hour;  he  told  merry  stories  of  incidents  that  had  come 
under  his  notice  that  morning.  One  of  these  concerned 
a  well-known  publican,  a  stalwart  figure  on  the  Tory 
side. 

"  I  am  assured  that  three  voters  have  been  drinking 
steadily  for  the  last  week  at  his  expense.  He  calculates 
that  delirium  tremens  will  have  set  in,  in  each  case,  by 
the  day  after  to-morrow."' 

"  AYho  are  these  men  ? "  asked  Lilian,  eagerly. 
"  Why  can't  we  save  them  in  time  ?  " 

"Oh,  the  thing  is  too  artfully  arranged.  They  are 
old  topers;  no  possibility  of  interfering." 

"  I  can't  see  " 

"  Lilian,"  interposed  Mrs.  Liversedge,  "  what  was 
the  material  of  that  wonderful  dress  Mrs.  Kay  wore  last 
night  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,  Mary;  I  didn't  notice  it.— But 
surely  if  it  is  knoivii  that  these  men  are" 

It  was  a  half-holiday  for  the  Liversedge  boys,  and 
they  were  anticipating  the  election  with  all  the  fervour 
of  British  youth.  That  morning  there  had  been  a 
splendid  fight  at  the  Grammar  School;  they  described 
it  with  great  vigour  and  amplitude,  waxing  Homeric  in 
their  zeal.  Dickinson  junior  had  told  Tom  Harte  that 
Gladstone  was  a  "  blackguard";  whereupon  Tom  smote 
him  between  the  eyes,  so  that  the  vile  calumniator 
measured  his  length  in  congenial  mud.     The  conflict 


266  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

spread.  Twenty  or  thirty  boys  took  coloured  rosettes 
from  their  pockets  (they  were  Just  leaving  school)  and 
pinned  them  to  their  coats,  then  rushed  to  combat  with 
party  war-cries.  Fletcher  senior  had  behaved  like  a 
brutal  coward  (though,  alas!  a  Gladstonian — it  was 
sorrowfully  admitted),  actually  throwing  a  stone  at  an 
enemy  who  was  engaged  in  single  fight,  with  the  result 
that  he  had  cut  open  the  head  of  one  of  his  own  friends — 
a  most  serious  wound.  x\n  under-master  (never  a 
favourite,  and  now  loathed  by  the  young  Liversedges  as 
a  declared  Tory)  had  interposed  in  the  unfairest  way — 
what  else  could  be  expected  of  him  ?  To  all  this  Mrs. 
Liversedge  gave  ear  not  without  pride,  but  as  soon  as 
possible  she  drew  Lilian  apart  into  a  quiet  room,  and 
did  her  best  to  soothe  the  feverishness  which  was  con- 
stantly declaring  itself. 

About  three  o'clock  Mrs.  Wade  called.  She  had  not 
expected  to  find  Lilian  here.  There  was  a  moment's 
embarrassment  on  both  sides.  When  they  sat  down  to 
talk,  the  widow's  eyes  flitted  now  and  then  over  Lilian's 
face,  but  she  addressed  herself  almost  exclusively  to 
Mrs.  Liversedge,  and  her  visit  lasted  only  a  quarter  of 
an  hour.  On  leaving,  she  went  into  the  town  to  make 
some  jiurchases,  and  near  the  Liberal  committee-rooms 
it  was  her  fortune  to  meet  with  Quarrier. 

"  I  have  wanted  to  see  you,"  he  said,  regarding  her 
anxiously.  "  Lily  has  got  over  it  much  better  than  I 
expected;  but  it  won't  do — she  can't  go  on  in  this 
excitement." 

"  I  have  Just  seen  her  at  your  sister's.  She  doesn't 
look  very  well." 

"  Could  I  venture  to  ask  one  more  kindness  of  you, 
Mrs.  Wade  ?    May  she  come  to  you,  say  the  day  after 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  367 

to-morrow,  and  stay  over  uight,  and  over  polling- 
day?" 

"1  shall  be  very  glad  indeed,"  faltered  the  widow, 
with  something  in  her  face  Avhich  did  not  seem  to  be 
reluctance,  though  it  was  unlike  pleasure. 

"Are  you  quite  sure  that  it  isn't  asking  too  much  of 
you  ?  At  my  sister's  she  is  in  a  perpetual  uproar;  it's 
worse  than  at  home.  And  I  don't  know  where  else  to 
send  her — indeed  I  don't.  But  I  am  getting  frightened, 
that's  the  truth.  If  she  could  be  with  you  during  the 
polling-day  " 

"  How  can  you  hesitate  to  ask  such  a  simple  thing  ?  " 
broke  in  Mrs.  AA^ade.     "  Shall  I  ask  her  myself  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  good  friend.  Your  conversation  will 
have  a  soothing  effect.  She  likes  you  so  much,  and 
gives  such  weight  to  everything  you  say.  Try  to  set 
her  mind  at  ease,  Mrs.  Wade;  you  can  do  it  if  any  one 
can." 

"  I  will  write  to  her,  and  then  call  to-morrow." 

Again  Lilian  had  a  night  without  thorough  rest, 
and  for  the  greater  part  of  the  next  day  she  was 
obliged  to  keep  her  room.  There  Mrs.  Wade  visited 
her,  and  they  talked  for  a  long  time;  it  was  decided 
that  Lilian  should  go  to  Pear-tree  Cottage  on  the 
following  afternoon,  and  remain  in  seclusion  until  the 
contest  was  over. 

She  came  down  at  five  o'clock.  Denzil,  who  had 
instructed  the  servants  that  she  was  at  home  to  no  one, 
sat  with  her  in  the  library,  holding  her  hand. 

"  I  am  quite  well,"  Lilian  declared  again  and  again. 
"  I  feel  quite  easy  in  mind — indeed  I  do.  As  you  wish 
it,  I  will  go  to  Mrs.  Wade's,  but " 

"  It  will  be  very  much  better.     To  tell  you  the  truth. 


268  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

girlie,  I  shall  feel  so  much  freer — knowing  3^ou  out  of 
the  row,  and  in  such  good  care." 

She  looked  at  him. 

"  How  wretched  to  be  so  weak,  Denzil  I  I  might 
have  sj)ared  you  more  than  half  what  you  have 
suffered,  if  I  hadn't  given  way  so." 

"Nonsense!  Most  women  would  have  played  the 
coward — and  that  you  never  could!  You  have  stood  it 
bravely,  dear.  But  it's  your  health  I  fear  for.  Take 
care  of  it  for  my  sake." 

Most  of  the  evening  he  was  away,  and  again  the 
Avhole  of  next  morning.  But  when  the  time  came  for 
her  to  leave,  they  were  sitting  once  more,  as  they  had 
done  so  often,  hand  in  hand,  their  love  and  trust 
stronger  than  ever,  too  strong  to  liiid  expression  in  mere 
words. 

"  If  I  go  into  Parliament,"  said  Denzil,  "  it's  you  I 
have  to  thank  for  it.  You  have  faced  and  borne  every- 
thing rather  than  disappoint  my  aims." 

He  raised  her  fingers  to  his  lips.  Then  the  arrival 
of  the  carriage  was  announced,  and  when  the  door  had 
closed  again,  they  held  each  other  for  a  moment  in 
passionate  embrace. 

"Good-bye  for  a  night  and  a  day  at  longest,"  he 
whispered  by  the  carriage  door.  "  I  shall  come  before 
midnight  to-morrow." 

She  tried  to  say  good-bye,  but  could  not  utter  a  sound. 
The  wheels  grated,  and  she  was  driven  rapidly  away. 


XXIV 

Arthue  James  Northwat  reached  London  in  a  mood 
of  imperfect  satisfaction.  On  the  principle  that  half 
a  cake  was  better  than  nothing,  he  might  congratulate 
himself  that  he  carried  in  his  j)ocket-book  bank-notes 
to  the  value  of  five  hundred  pounds;  but  it  was  a  bitter 
necessity  that  had  forbidden  his  exacting  more.  The 
possession  of  a  sum  gi'eater  than  he  had  ever  yet  owned 
fired  his  imagination;  he  began  to  reflect  that,  after 
all,  Quarrier's  defiance  was  most  likely  nothing  but  a 
ruse;  that  by  showing  himself  resolved,  he  might  have 
secured  at  least  the  thousand  pounds.  Then  he  cursed 
the  man  Marks,  whose  political  schemes  would  betray 
the  valuable  secret,  and  make  it  certain  that  none  of 
that  more  substantial  assistance  promised  by  Quarrier 
would  ever  be  given.  And  yet,  it  was  not  disagreeable 
to  picture  Quarrier's  rage  when  he  found  that  the  bribe 
had  been  expended  to  no  purpose.  If  he  had  felt 
animosity  against  the  wealthy  man  before  meeting  him 
face  to  face,  he  now  regarded  him  with  a  fiercer  malevo- 
lence. It  was  hard  to  relinquish  Lilian,  and  harder 
still  to  have  no  means  of  revenging  himself  upon  her 
and  her  pretended  husband.     Humiliated  by  conscious- 


270 


DENZIL   QUARRIER 


ness  of  the  base  part  he  had  jjlayed,  he  wished  it  in  his 
power  to  inflict  upon  them  some  signal  calamity. 

On  the  next  day,  when  he  was  newly  arrayed  from 
head  to  foot,  and  jingled  loose  sovereigns  in  his  pocket, 
this  tumult  of  feelings  possessed  him  even  more  strongly. 
Added  to  his  other  provocations  was  the  uncertainty 
whether  Marks  had  yet  taken  action.  Save  by  return- 
ing to  Polterham,  he  knew  not  how  to  learn  what  was 
happening  there.  To-morrow  a  Polterham  newspaper 
would  be  published;  he  must  wait  for  that  source  of 
intelligence.  Going  to  a  news-agent's,  he  discovered 
the  name  of  the  journal,  and  at  once  posted  an  order 
for  a  copy  to  be  sent  to  him. 

In  the  meantime,  he  was  disposed  to  taste  some  of  the 
advantages  of  opulence.  His  passions  were  awakened ; 
he  had  to  compensate  himself  for  years  lost  in  suffering 
of  body  and  mind.  AVith  exultant  swagger  he  walked 
about  the  London  streets,  often  inspecting  his  appear- 
ance in  a  glass;  for  awhile  he  could  throw  aside  all 
thought  of  the  future,  relish  his  freedom,  take  his 
licence  in  the  way  that  most  recommended  itself  to  him. 

The  hours  did  not  lag,  and  on  the  following  afternoon 
he  received  the  newspaper  for  which  he  was  waiting. 
He  tore  it  open,  and  ran  his  eye  over  the  columns,  but 
they  contained  no  extraordinary  matter.  Nothing  un- 
expected had  befallen;  there  was  an  account  of  the 
nomination,  and  plenty  of  rancour  against  the  Radicals, 
but  assuredly,  up  to  the  hour  of  the  Mercury'' s  going  to 
press,  no  public  scandal  had  exploded  in  Polterham, 

What  did  it  mean  ?  Was  Marks  delaying  for  some 
definite  reason  ?  Or  had  he  misrepresented  his  motives  ? 
Was  it  a  private  enmity  he  had  planned  to  gratify — 
now  frustrated  by  the  default  of  his  instrument  ? 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  271 

He  had  given  Marks  an  address  in  Bristol,  that  of  a 
shop  at  which  letters  were  received.  Possibly  some 
communication  awaited  him  there.  He  hastened  to 
Paddington  and  took  the  first  westward  train. 

On  inquiry  next  morning,  he  found  he  had  had  his 
journey  for  nothing.  As  he  might  have  anticipated, 
Marks  was  too  cautious  a  man  to  have  recourse  to 
writing. 

There  were  still  two  days  before  the  poll  at  Polter- 
ham.  Thither  he  must  return,  that  was  certain;  for 
if  the  election  passed  without  startling  events,  he 
would  again  be  in  a  position  to  catch  Quarrier  by  the 
throat. 

To  be  sure,  there  was  the  promise  of  assistance  in  a 
commercial  career,  but  his  indulgence  of  the  last  day  or 
two  had  inclined  him  to  prefer  sums  of  ready  money. 
Once  elected,  Quarrier  would  not  submit  to  social  dis- 
grace for  the  sake  of  a  thousand  pounds — nor  for  two 
thousand — possibly  not  for  five.  Cupidity  had  taken 
hold  upon  XortliAvay.  "With  a  few  thousands  in  his 
pocket,  he  might  aim  at  something  more  to  his  taste 
than  a  life  of  trading.  Five  thousand  it  should  be,  not 
a  penny  less !  This  time  he  was  not  to  be  fobbed  off 
with  bluster  and  posturing. 

He  spent  the  day  in  Bristol,  and  at  nightfall  Journeyed 
towards  Polterham. 

No;  even  yet  nothing  had  happened.  Conversation 
at  an  inn  to  which  he  betook  himself  assured  him  that 
things  were  going  their  orderly  way.  Had  Marks 
himself  been  hougJit  off? 

The  next  day — that  before  the  election — he  wandered 
about  the  town  and  its  vicinity,  undetermined  how  to 
act,  thinking  on  the  whole  that  he  had  better  do  nothing 


273  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

till  after  the  morrow.  Twice,  morning  and  afternoon, 
did  he  view  Mrs.  Wade's  cottage  from  a  distance.  Just 
after  sunset  he  was  once  more  in  that  neighbourhood, 
and  this  time  with  a  purpose. 

At  that  hour  Mrs.  AVade  and  her  guest  were  together 
in  the  sitting-room.  The  lamjD  had  just  been  lighted, 
the  red  blind  drawn  down.  Lilian  reclined  on  a  aouch; 
she  looked  worse  in  health  than  when  she  had  taken 
leave  of  Denzil;  her  eyes  told  of  fever,  and  her  limbs 
were  relaxed.  Last  night  she  had  not  enjoyed  an  hour 
of  sleep;  the  strange  room  and  the  recollection  of 
Northway's  visit  to  this  house  (Quarrier,  in  his  faith 
that  Mrs.  Wade's  companionship  was  best  for  Lilian, 
had  taken  no  account  of  the  disagreeable  association) 
kept  her  nerves  in  torment,  and  with  the  morning  she 
had  begun  to  suffer  from  a  racking  headache. 

Mrs.  Wade  was  talking,  seated  by  the  table,  on  which 
her  arms  rested.  She,  too,  had  a  look  of  nervous  tension, 
and  her  voice  was  slightly  hoarse. 

"  Ambition,"  she  said,  with  a  slow  emphasis,  "  is  the 
keynote  of  Mr.  Quarrier's  character.  If  you  haven't 
understood  that,  you  don't  yet  know  him — indeed  you 
don't  !  A  noble  ambition,  mind.  He  is  above  all 
meanness.  In  wishing  to  take  a  foremost  part  in 
politics,  he  cares,  at  heart,  very  little  for  the  personal 
dignity  it  will  bring  him ;  his  desire — I  am  convinced 
— is  to  advance  all  causes  that  appeal  to  an  honest  and 
feeling  man.  He  has  discovered  that  he  can  do  this  in 
a  way  he  had  never  before  suspected — by  the  exercise 
of  a  splendid  gift  of  eloquence.  What  a  deplorable 
thing  if  that  possibility  had  been  frustrated !  " 

Lilian  murmured  an  assent.  Silence  followed,  and 
she  closed  her  eyes.     In  a  minute  or  two  Mrs.  Wade 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  273 

turned  to  look;  the  expression  which  grew  upon  her 
face  as  she  watched  furtively  was  one  of  subtlest  malice. 
Of  scorn,  too.  Had  she  been  in  the  position  of  that 
feeble  creature,  how  differently  would  she  have  en- 
countered its  perils! 

"  Is  your  head  any  better  ?  "  she  asked,  just  above 
her  breath. 

"  n  burns ! — Feel  my  hand,  how  hot  it  is ! " 

"  You  are  feverish.  We  have  talked  too  much,  I 
fear." 

"No;  I  like  to  hear  you  talk.  And  it  passes  the 
time.     Oh,  I  hope  Denzil  won't  be  very  late !  " 

There  sounded  a  knock  at  the  front  door,  a  heavy  raj) 
such  as  would  be  given  by  some  rustic  hand. 

"  What  can  that  be  ? "  Lilian  exclaimed,  raising 
herself. 

"  Nothing,  dear — nothing.     Some  errand-boy." 

The  servant  was  heard  in  the  passage.  She  brought 
a  letter,  and  said  a  messenger  waited  for  the  reply. 
Mrs.  Wade  looked  at  the  address;  the  hand  was 
unknown  to  her. 

"  From  Denzil  ?  "  asked  Lilian. 

The  other  made  no  reply.  What  she  found  in  the 
envelope  was  a  note  from  Northway,  saying  he  was 
close  by  and  wished  to  see  her.  After  a  moment's 
hesitation  she  went  to  the  door,  where  a  boy  was 
standing. 

"Will  you  tell  the  person  who  gave  you  this  note 
that  he  may  come  here  ?  " 

Then  she  bade  her  servant  put  a  light  in  the  dining- 
room,  and  returned  to  lilian.  Iler  look  excited  the 
sufferer's  alarm. 

"  Has  anything  happened,  Mrs.  Wade  ?  " 


274  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"Hush!  Try  to  command  yourself.  He  is  here 
again;  wishes  to  see  me." 

"  He  is  here  again  ?  " 

Lilian  rose  to  her  feet,  and  moaned  despairingly. 

"  You  won't  let  him  come  into  this  room  ?  What 
does  he  want  ?  He  told  us  he  would  never  come  again. 
Is  he  seeking  more  money  ?  " 

"He  sha'n't  come  in  here.  I'll  see  him  as  I  did 
before." 

As  she  spoke,  a  rat-tat  sounded  from  without,  and, 
having  advised  Lilian  to  lock  the  door,  Mrs.  Wade 
crossed  to  the  other  room.  Northway  entered,  grave 
and  nervous, 

"  I  hoi3e  you  will  excuse  my  coming  again,"  he  began, 
as  the  widow  regarded  him  with  silent  interrogation. 
"  You  spoke  to  me  last  time  in  such  a  very  kind  and 
friendly  way.  Being  in  a  difficulty,  I  thought  I  couldn't 
do  better  than  ask  your  advice." 

"  What  is  the  difficulty,  Mr.  Northway  ?  " 

Her  suave  tone  reassured  him,  and  he  seated  him- 
self. His  real  purpose  in  coming  was  to  discover,  if 
possible,  whether  Quarrier's  position  was  still  unassailed. 
He  had  a  vague  sense  that  this  Mrs.  Wade,  on  what- 
ever grounds,  was  sympathetically  disposed  to  him;  by 
strengthening  the  acquaintance,  he  might  somehow 
benefit  himself. 

"  First,  I  should  like  to  know  if  all  has  gone  smoothly 
since  I  went  away  ?  " 

"  Smoothly  ?— Quite,  I  think." 

"It  still  seems  certain  that  Mr.  Quarrier  will  be 
elected  to-morrow  ?  " 

"Very  likely  "indeed." 

He  looked  about  him,  and  smoothed  his  silk  hat — 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  275 

a  very  different  article  from  that  he  had  formerly  worn. 
Examining  him,  Mrs.  Wade  was  amused  at  the 
endeavour  he  had  made  to  equip  himself  like  a  gentle- 
man. 

"What  else  did  you  wish  to  ask  me,  Mr.  North- 
way  ?  " 

"  It's  a  point  of  conscience.  If  you  remember,  Mrs. 
Wade,  it  was  you  who  persuaded  me  to  give  up  all 
thought  of  parting  those  persons." 

"I  tried  to  do  so,"  she  answered,  with  a  smile.  "I 
thought  it  best  for  your  interests  as  well  as  for  theirs." 

"  Yes,  but  I  fear  that  I  had  no  right  to  do  it.  My 
conscience  rebukes  me." 

"  Does  it,  really  ? — I  can't  quite  see  " 

She  herself  was  so  agitated  that  features  and  voice 
would  hardly  obey  her  will.  She  strove  to  concentrate 
her  attention  upon  Northway^s  words,  and  divine  their 
secret  meaning.  His  talk  continued  for  awhile  in  the 
same  strain,  but  confused,  uncertain,  rambling.  Mrs. 
Wade  found  it  impossible  to  determine  what  he  aimed 
at  ;  now  and  then  she  suspected  that  he  had  been 
drinking.     At  length  he  stood  up. 

"  You  still  think  I  am  justified  in — in  making  terms 
with  Mr.  Quarrier  ?  " 

"  What  else  are  you  inclined  to  do  ?  "  the  widow 
asked,  anxiously. 

"  I  can't  be  sure  yet  what  I  shall  eventually  do.  Per- 
haps you  would  let  me  see  you  again,  when  the  election 


IS  over 


P" 


"  If  you  promise  me  to  do  nothing — but  keep  out  of 
sight — in  the  meanwhile." 

"  Yes,  I'll  promise  that,"  he  said,  with  deliberation. 
She  was   loth  to  dismiss    him,  yet    saw  no  use  in 


97C  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

further  talk.  At  the  door  he  shook  hands  with  her, 
and  said  that  he  was  going  into  the  town. 

Lilian  opened  the  door  of  the  sitting-room. 

"  He  has  gone  ?  " 

Her  companion  nodded. 

"  Where  ?— What  will  he  do  ?  " 

Mrs.  Wade  answered  with  a  gesture  of  uncertainty, 
and  sat  down  by  the  table,  where  she  propped  her  fore- 
head upon  her  hands.  Lilian  was  standing,  her  coun- 
tenance that  of  one  distraught.  Suddenly  the  widow 
looked  up  and  spoke  in  a  voice  hoarser  than  before. 

"  I  see  what  he  means.  He  enjoys  keeping  you  both 
at  his  mercy.  It's  like  an  animal  that  has  tasted 
blood — and  if  his  desire  is  balked,  he'll  revenge  himself 
in  the  other  way." 

"  You  think  he  has  gone  to  Denzil  ?  " 

"  Very  likely.  If  not  to-night,  he  will  to-morrow. 
Will  Mr.  Quarrier  pay  him  again,  do  you  think  ? " 
She  put  the  question  in  a  tone  which  to  Lilian  sounded 
strange,  all  but  hostile. 

"  I  can't  say,"  was  the  weary,  distracted  answer. 

"  Oh,  I  am  sorry  for  you,  Lilian  ! "  pursued  the 
other,  in  agitation,  though  again  her  voice  was  curiously 
harsh.  "  You  will  reproach  yourself  so  if  his  life's 
purpose  is  frustrated  !  But  remember,  it's  not  your 
fault.  It  was  he  who  took  the  responsibility  from  the 
first.  It  was  he  who  chose  to  brave  this  possible 
danger.  If  the  worst  comes,  you  must  strengthen 
yourself." 

Lilian  sank  upon  a  chair,  and  leaned  forward  with 
stupefied  gaze  at  the  speaker. 

"  The  danger  is,"  pursued  Mrs.  Wade,  in  lower 
tones,  "  that  he  may  be  unjust — feel  unjustly — as  men 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  277 

are  wont  to.  You — in  spite  of  liimself,  he  may  feel 
that  yon  have  been  the  cause  of  his  failure.  You  must 
be  prepared  for  that;  I  tell  it  you  in  all  kindness.  If 
he  again  consents  to  pay  Northway,  he  will  be  in  con- 
stant fear.  The  sense  of  servitude  will  grow  intoler- 
able— embarrassing  all  he  tries  to  do — all  his  public 
and  private  life.  In  that  case,  too,  he  must  sometimes 
think  of  you  as  in  the  way  of  his  ambition.  A  most 
difficult  task  is  before  you — a  duty  that  will  tax  all 
your  powers.  You  will  be  equal  to  it,  I  have  no  doubt. 
Jast  now  you  see  everything  darkly  and  hojielessly,  but 
that's  because  your  health  has  suffered  of  late." 

"  Perhaps  this  very  night,"  said  Lilian,  without 
looking  at  her  companion,  "  he  will  tell  people." 

"  He  is  more  likely  to  succeed  in  getting  money,  and 
then  he  will  keep  the  threat  held  over  you.  He  seems 
to  have  come  at  this  moment  just  because  he  knows 
that  your  fear  of  him  will  be  keenest  now.  That  will 
always  be  his  aim — to  appear  with  his  threats  just  when 
a  disclosure  would  be  hardest  to  bear.  But  I  suppose 
Mr.  Quarrier  will  rather  give  up  everything  than  sub- 
mit to  this.     Oh,  the  pity !  the  pity !  " 

Lilian  let  her  hands  fall  and  sat  staring  before  her. 

She  felt  as  though  cast  out  into  a  terrible  solitude. 
Mrs.  Wade's  voice  came  from  a  distance;  and  it  was 
not  a  voice  of  true  sympathy,  but  of  veiled  upbraiding. 
Unspeakably  remote  was  the  image  of  the  man  she 
loved,  and  he  moved  still  away  from  her.  A  cloud  of 
pain  fell  between  her  and  all  the  kindly  world. 

In  these  nights  of  sleepless  misery  she  had  thought 
of  her  old  home.  The  relatives  from  whom  she  was  for 
ever  parted — her  sister,  her  kind  old  aunt — looked  at 
her  with  reproachful  eyes;  and  now,  in  anguish  which 


278  DENZIL  QUAKRIER 

bordered  upon  delirium,  it  was  they  alone  who  seemed 
real  to  her;  all  her  recent  life  had  become  a  vague 
suffering,  a  confused  consciousness  of  desire  and  terror. 
Her  childhood  returned ;  she  saw  her  parents  and  heard 
them  talk.  A  longing  for  the  peace  and  love  of 
those  dead  days  rent  her  heart. 

She  could  neither  speak  nor  move.  Torture  born  in 
the  brain  throbbed  through  every  part  of  her  body. 
But  worse  was  that  ghastly  sense  of  utter  loneliness,  of 
being  forsaken  by  human  sympathy.  The  cloud  about 
her  thickened;  it  muffled  light  and  sound,  and  began 
to  obscure  even  her  memories. 

For  a  long  time  Mrs.  Wade  had  sat  silent.  At 
length  she  rose,  glanced  at  Lilian,  and,  without  speak- 
ing, left  the  room. 

She  went  upstairs  and  into  her  bed-chamber,  and 
here  stood  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  dark,  purposeless. 
Then  she  seated  herself  in  a  low  chair  that  was  by  the 
bed-side.  For  her,  too,  the  past  night  had  been  one  of 
painful  watching;  her  nerves  threatened  danger  if  she 
stayed  in  the  same  room  with  Lilian.  Here  she  could 
recover  something  of  self-control,  and  think  over  the 
lastest  aspect  of  affairs. 

Thus  had  she  sat  for  nearly  half  an  hour,  when  her 
reverie  was  broken  by  a  sound  from  below.  It  was  the 
closing  of  the  front  door.  She  sprang  up  and  ran  to  the 
window,  to  see  if  any  one  passed  out  into  the  road;  but 
no  figure  became  visible.  The  gate  was  closed;  no  one 
could  have  gone  forth  so  quickly.  A  minute  or  two 
passed,  yet  she  heard  and  saw  nothing. 

Then  she  quickly  descended  the  stairs.  The  door  of 
the  sitting-room  was  open;  the  room  was  vacant. 

"  Lilian ! "  she  called  aloud,  involuntarily. 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  279 

She  sprang  to  the  front  door  and  looked  about  in  the 
little  garden.  Some  one  moving  behind  caused  her  to 
turn  round;  it  was  the  servant. 

"  Annie,  has  Mrs.  Quarrier  left  the  house  ?  " 

"  Yes,  m'm,  she  has.  I  just  had  the  kitchen  door 
open,  and  I  saw  her  go  out — without  anything  on  her 
head." 

"  Where  can  she  be,  then  ?  The  gate  hasn't  been 
opened;  I  should  have  heard  it." 

One  other  way  there  was  out  of  the  garden.  By 
passing  along  a  side  of  the  cottage,  one  came  into  the 
back-yard,  and  thence,  by  a  gate,  into  one  of  the  fields 
which  spread  towards  Bale  Water.  Mrs.  Wade  re- 
membered that  Lilian  had  discovered  this  exit  one  day 
not  long  ago. 

"  I  don't  understand  it,"  she  continued,  hurriedly. 
"  You  run  and  put  your  hat  on,  and  then  look  up  and 
down  the  road.     I'll  go  to  the  back." 

Regardless  of  the  cold  night  air,  she  hastened  in  the 
direction  that  Lilian  must  necessarily  have  taken. 
Eeaching  the  field,  she  could  at  first  distinguish  no 
object  in  the  dark  space  before  her.  But  the  sky  was 
clear  and  starry,  and  in  a  few  moments,  running  on 
the  while,  she  caught  sight  of  a  figure  not  very  far  in 
advance.  That  undoubtedly  was  Lilian,  escaping, 
speeding  over  the  meadows — whither  ? 

The  ground  rose  gradually,  and  at  a  distance  of  less 
than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  cut  clearly  across  the  sky.  Still 
advancing,  though  with  less  speed,  she  saw  Lilian's 
form  gain  the  top  of  the  rise,  and  there  stand,  a  black, 
motionless  projection  from  the  ground.  If  now  she 
called  in  a  loud  voice,  the  fugitive  must  certainly  hear 
her;   but  she  kept  silence.     By  running  quickly  over 


280  DENZIL  QUAERIER 

the  grass  she  might  overtake  her  friend,  who  still 
lingered;  but,  as  if  her  limbs  had  failed,  she  crouched 
down,  and  so  remained  until  the  dark  figure  all  at  once 
disappeared. 

Immediately  she  started  to  her  feet  again,  and 
pressed  forward.  A  few  minutes,  and  she  was  at  the 
top  of  the  field,  where  Lilian  had  paused ;  panting,  her 
heart  throbbing,  a  cold  sweat  on  her  forehead.  From 
this  point  she  looked  over  a  grassy  slope,  towards  the 
trees  which  shadowed  Bale  Water.  But  her  eye  could 
discern  nothing  save  outlines  against  the  starry  heaven. 
All  the  ground  before  her  lay  in  a  wide-spreading 
hollow,  and  darkness  cloaked  it. 

Again  she  crouched  down,  pressing  her  hand  against 
her  heart,  listening.  It  was  a  very  still  night,  and  few 
sounds  disturbed  its  peacefulness.  Somewhere,  far 
off,  a  cart  rumbled  along;  presently  one  of  the 
Polterham  clocks  began  to  strike,  faintly  but  clearly. 
That  caused  her  to  look  in  the  direction  of  the 
town;  she  saw  the  radiance  of  lights,  and  thought 
of  what  was  going  on  over  there — the  shouting,  rush- 
ing, fighting. 

A  night-insect  buzzed  against  her,  and,  almost  in  the 
same  moment,  there  came  from  down  in  the  hollow, 
from  beyond  the  trees,  a  sound  which  chilled  her  blood, 
stopped  the  wild  beating  of  her  heart.  It  seemed  to 
echo  with  dreadful  clearness  from  end  to  end  of  the 
heavens.  A  dull  splash  of  water,  that  was  all;  in 
reality,  scarcely  to  be  heard  at  this  distance  save  by  an 
ear  straining  in  dreadful  expectation. 

She  made  one  effort  to  rise,  but  could  not.  Another, 
and  she  was  fleeing  back  to  the  cottage  as  if  chased  for 
her  life. 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  281 

The  back-door  was  locked ;  she  had  to  go  round  into 
the  garden,  and  there  the  servant  was  waiting. 

"  Have  you  found  her,  m'm  ?  " 

"  No — I  can't  think — go  in,  Annie." 

The  girl  was  frightened ;  yet  more  so  when,  by  the 
light  from  the  sitting-room,  she  saw  her  mistress's 
face. 

"  Do  you  think  she's  gone  home,  m'm  ?  " 

"  Yes,  no  doubt.  Go  into  the  kitchen.  I'll  call  you 
again." 

Mrs.  Wade  entered  the  parlour,  and  closed  the  door. 
Her  dress  was  in  disorder;  her  hair  had  in  part  fallen 
loose ;  on  her  hands  were  traces  of  mud.  She  did  not 
sit  down,  and  remained  just  within  the  door;  her  look 
and  attitude  were  those  of  a  terrified  listener. 

Presently  she  moved  towards  the  fire,  and  knelt 
before  it — though  she  had  no  need  of  warmth.  Starts 
and  shudders  indicated  her  mental  anguish.  Yet  no 
sound  escaped  her,  until,  in  a  sudden  convulsion  of  her 
frame,  she  gave  a  cry  of  terror,  and  threw  herself  at  full 
length  upon  the  ground.  There  she  lay,  struggling 
with  hysterical  passion,  half  choked  by  sobs,  now  and 
then  uttering  a  hoarse  wail,  at  length  weeping  with  the 
self-abandonment  of  a  child. 

It  lasted  for  ten  minutes  or  more,  and  then  followed 
a  long  silence.  Her  body  still  quivered;  she  lay  with 
her  face  half  hidden  against  the  hearth-rug,  lips  parted, 
but  teeth  set,  breathing  heavily. 

The  clock  upon  her  mantelpiece  sounded  the  third 
quarter — a  quarter  to  nine.  It  drew  her  attention,  and 
at  length  she  half  raised  herself.  Still  she  had  the 
look  of  one  who  listens.  She  stood  up,  mechanically 
smoothed  her  hair,  and  twice  walked  the  length  of  the 


283  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

room.  Nearing  the  door  yet  again,  she  opened  it, 
and  went  upstairs. 

Five  minutes,  and  she  had  made  herself  ready  to  go 
out.  At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  she  called  to  her 
servant. 

"  I  must  go  into  Polterham,  Annie.  If  Mr.  Quarrier 
should  come  whilst  I'm  away,  say  that  Mrs.  Quarrier 
and  I  have  gone  out,  but  shall  be  back  very  soon. 
You  understand  that  ?  " 

Then  she  set  forth,  and  hurried  along  the  dark  road. 


I 


XXV 

Only  one  vehicle  passed  her  before  she  came  within 
sight  of  the  streets;  it  was  a  carriage  and  pair,  and  she 
recognized  the  coachman  of  a  family  who  lived  towards 
Eickstead.  Quarrier  was  doubtless  still  in  the  town, 
but  to  find  him  might  be  difficult.  Perhaps  she  had 
better  go  to  his  house  and  despatch  a  servant  in  search 
of  him.  But  that  was  away  on  the  other  side  of  Polter- 
ham,  and  in  the  meantime  he  might  be  starting  for 
Pear-tree  Cottage.  The  polling  was  long  since  over; 
would  he  linger  with  his  friends  at  the  committee- 
room  ? 

Yet  she  must  go  to  the  house  first  of  all;  there  was 
a  reason  for  it  which  only  now  occurred  to  her. 

The  main  thoroughfares,  usually  silent  and  forsaken 
at  this  hour,  were  alive  with  streams  of  pedestrians, 
with  groups  of  argumentative  electors,  with  noisy  troops 
of  lads  and  girls  who  occasionally  amused  themselves 
with  throwing  mud  at  some  unpopular  person,  or  even 
breakinsr  a  window  and  rushing  off  with  yells  into  the 
darkness  of  byways.  Public-houses  were  doing  a  brisk 
trade,  not  without  pugilism  for  the  entertainment  of 
such  as  lounged  about  the  doors.  For  these  sights  and 
sounds  Mrs.  AVade  had  no  attention,  but  frequently  her 
ear  was  smitten  with  the  name  "Quarrier,"  spoken 


284  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

or  roared  by  partisan  or  adversary.     Her  way  led  her 

through  the  open  place  where  stood  the  Town  Hall; 
here  had  gathered  some  hundreds  of  people,  waiting  for 
the  result  of  the  poll.  As  she  hurried  along  the  ragged 
edge  of  the  crowd,  a  voice  from  somewhere  close  at 
hand  checked  her. 

"  If  you  imagine  that  Quarrier  will  do  more  for  the 
people  than  any  other  politician,  you  will  find  your- 
selves mistaken.  Party  politics  are  no  good — no  good 
at  all.  You  working  men  ought  to  have  the  sense  to 
form  a  party  of  your  own." 

It  was  Northway,  addressing  a  cluster  of  mill-hands, 
and  evidently  posing  as  one  of  a  superior  class  who 
deigned  to  give  them  disinterested  advice.  She  listened 
for  a  minute  longer,  but  heard  nothing  that  could  excite 
her  alarm. 

When  she  reached  the  house  it  was  a  quarter  to  ten. 
This  part  of  the  town  lay  in  obscurity  and  quietness; 
not  a  shout  sounded  in  her  hearing. 

Mr.  Quarrier  had  not  been  at  home  since  early  in  the 
afternoon. 

"He  must  be  found  at  once,"  said  Mrs.  Wade, 
adding    quickly,    "I    suj)pose    Mrs.    Quarrier    hasn't 


come 


9" 


The  servant  gave  a  surprised  negative. 

"  You  must  please  send  some  one  to  find  Mr.  Quarrier, 
without  a  moment's  delay.     I  will  come  in  and  wait." 

The  coachman  happened  to  be  in  the  kitchen.  Mrs. 
Wade  had  him  summoned,  and  despatched  him  for  his 
master.  Though  her  limbs  shook  with  fatigue  she 
could  not  remain  seated  for  more  than  a  few  minutes  at 
a  time;  she  kept  the  drawing-room  door  open,  and  kept 
going  out  to  listen.    Her  suspense  lasted  for  more  than 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  285 

half  an  hour;  then  at  length  she  heard  a  cab  rattle  up 
the  drive,  and  in  another  moment  Quarrier  stood  before 
her.  This  was  the  second  time  within  a  few  days  that 
her  face  had  been  of  ill  omen  to  him;  he  frowned  an 
anxious  inquiry. 

"  You  haven't  seen  Lilian  ?  "  she  began. 

"  Seen  her  ?  " 

"  She  has  gone — left  the  cottage — I  can't  find  her." 

"  Gone  ?     When  did  she  go  ?  " 

"I  have  bad  news  for  you.  North  way  has  come 
back;  he  called  at  the  cottage  about  seven  o'clock. 
I  didn't  let  him  know  Lilian  was  there,  and  soon  got 
rid  of  him;  he  said  he  would  have  to  see  you  again. 
Lilian  was  dreadfully  agitated,  and  when  I  happened 
to  leave  the  *  room,  she  went  out — disappeared — I 
thought  she  must  have  come  home  " 

"  What  do  the  servants  say  ?  " 

"  They  haven't  seen  her." 

"  But  she  may  have  gone  to  Mary's  ?  " 

Arrested  in  the  full  flow  of  his  jubilant  spirits  by  this 
extraordinary  announcement,  Denzil  could  not  admit 
grave  alarm.  If  Lilian  had  fled  from  the  proximity  of 
her  pursuer,  she  must  of  course  have  taken  refuge  with 
some  friend. 

"  Let  us  go  to  the  Liversedges',"  he  exclaimed.  "  I 
have  a  cab  " 

"  Stop,  Mr.  Quarrier. — I  haven't  told  you  the  worst. 
She  ran  from  the  house  just  as  she  was,  without  her 
hat" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?    Why  should  she ?  " 

"  She  was  in  a  dreadful  state.  I  had  done  my  best 
to  soothe  her.  I  was  just  going  to  send  for  you.  My 
servant  saw  her  run  out  from  the  sitting-room  into  the 


286  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

garden,  and  the  gate  wasn't  opened — slie  must  have 
gone  the  back  way — into  the  fiekls." 

"  Into  the  fields ?" 

He  stared  at  her  with  a  look  of  gathering  horror,  and 
his  tongue  failed  him. 

"I  followed  that  way.  I  searched  everywhere.  I 
went  a  long  way  over  towards  " 

She  broke  off,  quivering  from  head  to  foot. 

"  But  she  must  have  gone  somewhere  for  refuge — to 
some  one's  house." 

"  I  hope  so !     Oh,  I  hope  so !  " 

Her  voice  choked ;  tears  started  from  her  eyes. 

"What  do  you  fear ?     Tell  me  at  once,  plainly!" 

She  caught  his  hand,  and  replied  with  sobs  of 
anguish. 

"  AVhy  should  she  have  gone  into  the  fields  ? — 
without  anything  on  her  head — into  the  fields  that  lead 
over  to  " 

"  To — you  don't  mean  to — the  water  ?  " 

Still  clinging  to  his  hand,  she  sobbed,  tried  to  utter 
words  of  denial,  then  again  of  fear.  For  the  instant 
Denzil  was  paralyzed,  but  rapidly  he  released  himself, 
and  in  a  voice  of  command  bade  her  follow.  They 
entered  the  cab  and  were  driven  towards  the  Town  Hall. 

"Did  you  go  to  the  water,"  he  asked,  "and  look 
about  there  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "I  did.— I  could  see  nothing." 

As  they  drew  near,  a  roar  of  triumphant  voices 
became  audible ;  presently  they  were  in  the  midst  of  the 
clamour,  and  with  difficulty  their  vehicle  made  its  way 
through  a  shouting  multitude.  It  stopped  at  length  by 
the  public  building,  and  Quarrier  alighted.  At  once  he 
was   recognized.     There    rose    yells    of    "Quarrier  for 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  387 

ever ! "  Men  pressed  upon  him,  wanted  to  shake  hands 
with  him,  bellowed  congratulations  in  his  ear.  Heed- 
less, he  rushed  on,  and  was  fortunate  enough  to  find 
very  quickly  the  man  he  sought,  his  brother-in-law. 

"  Toby ! "  he  whispered,  drawing  him  aside,  "  we 
have  lost  Lilian  I  She  may  be  at  your  house;  come 
with  us ! " 

Voiceless  with  astonishment,  Mr.  Liversedge  followed, 
seated  himself  in  the  cab.  Five  minutes  brought  them 
to  his  house. 

"  Go  in  and  ask,"  said  Quarrier. 

Toby  returned  in  a  moment,  followed  by  his  wife. 

"  She  hasn't  been  here.  What  the  deuce  does  it  all 
mean  ?  I  can't  understand  you.  Why,  where  should 
she  have  gone  ?  " 

Again  Denzil  drew  him  aside. 

"Get  a  boatman,  with  lights  and  drags,  and  row 
round  as  fast  as  possible  to  Bale  Water  ! " 

"Good  heavens!     What  are  you  talking  about  ?" 

"  Do  as  I  tell  you,  without  a  minute's  delay !  Take 
this  cab.     I  shall  be  there  long  before  you." 

Mrs.  Liversedge  was  talking  with  Mrs.  Wade,  who 
would  say  nothing  but  that  Lilian  had  disappeared. 
At  Denzil's  bidding  the  cab  was  transferred  to  Toby, 
who,  after  whispering  with  his  wife,  was  driven  quickly 
away.     Quarrier  refused  to  enter  the  house. 

"  We  shall  find  another  cab  near  the  Town  Hall,"  he 
said  to  Mrs.  Wade.  "  Good-night,  Molly !  I  can't  talk 
to  you  now." 

The  two  hastened  off.  When  they  were  among  the 
people  again,  Mrs.  Wade  caught  sentences  that  told  her 
the  issue  of  the  day.  "Majority  of  over  six  hundred! — 
Well   done,  Quarrier! — Quarrier  for  ever!"    Without 


288  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

exchanging  a  word,  they  gained  the  spot  where  one  or 
two  cabs  still  waited,  and  were  soon  speeding  along  the 
Eickstead  Koad. 

"  She  may  be  at  the  cottage,"  was  all  Denzil  said  on 
the  way. 

But  no;  Lilian  was  not  at  the  cottage.  Quarrier 
stood  in  the  porch,  looking  about  him  as  if  he  imagined 
that  the  lost  one  might  be  hiding  somewhere  near. 

"I  shall  go — over  there,"  he  said.  "It  will  take  a 
long  time." 

"  What  ?  " 

"  Liversedge  is  rowing  round,  with  drags. — Go  in  and 
wait. — You  may  be  wrong." 

"  I  didn't  say  I  thought  it  !  It  was  only  a  fear— a 
dreadful  possibility." 

Again  she  burst  into  tears. 

"  Go  in  and  rest,  Mrs.  Wade,"  he  said,  more  gently. 
"  You  shall  know — if  anything  " 

And,  with  a  look  of  unutterable  misery,  he  turned 
away. 

Lilian  might  have  taken  refuge  somewhere  in  the 
fields.  It  seemed  a  wild  unlikelihood,  but  he  durst  not 
give  up  hope.  Though  his  desire  was  to  reach  the 
waterside  as  quickly  as  possible,  he  searched  on  either 
hand  as  he  went  by  the  path,  and  once  or  twice  he 
called  in  a  loud  voice  "  Lilian ! "  The  night  was 
darker  now  than  when  Mrs.  Wade  had  passed  through 
the  neighbouring  field;  clouds  had  begun  to  sj)read, 
and  only  northwards  was  there  a  space  of  starry  bril- 
liance. 

He  came  in  sight  of  the  trees  along  the  bank,  and 
proceeded  at  a  quicker  step,  again  calling  Lilian's  name 
more  loudly.     Only  the  soughing  wind  replied  to  him. 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  289 

The  nearest  part  of  tlie  water  was  that  where  it  was 
deepest,  where  the  high  bank  had  a  railing;  the  spot 
where  Mrs.  Wade  and  Lilian  had  stood  together  on 
their  first  friendly  walk.  Denzil  went  near,  leaned 
across  the  rail,  and  looked  down  into  featureless  gloom. 
Not  a  sound  beneath. 

He  walked  hither  and  thither,  often  calling  and 
standing  still  to  listen.  The  whole  sky  was  now 
obscured,  and  the  wind  grew  keener.  Afraid  of  losing 
himself,  he  returned  to  the  high  bank  and  there  waited, 
his  eyes  fixed  in  the  direction  whence  the  boat  must 
come.  The  row  along  the  river  Bale  from  Polterham 
would  take  more  than  an  hour. 

As  he  stood  sunk  in  desperate  thoughts,  a  hand 
touched  him.     He  turned  round,  exclaiming  "  Lilian ! " 

"  It  is  I,"  answered  Mrs.  Wade's  voice. 

"  Why  have  you  come  ?  What  good  can  you  do 
here  ?  " 

"Don't  be  angry  with  me!"  she  implored.  "I 
couldn't  stay  at  home — I  couldn't  !  " 

"I  don't  mean  to  speak  angrily. — Think,"  he 
added,  in  low  shaken  voice,  "if  that  poor  girl  is 
lying  " 

A  sob  broke  off  his  sentence ;  he  pointed  down  into 
the  black  water.  Mrs.  Wade  uttered  no  reply,  but  he 
heard  the  sound  of  her  weeping. 

They  stood  thus  for  a  long  time,  then  Denzil  raised 
his  hand. 

"  Look !     They  are  coming!  " 

There  was  a  spot  of  light  far  off,  moving  slowly. 

"  I  can  hear  the  oars,"  he  added  presently. 

It  was  in  a  lull  of  the  soughing  wind,  A  minute 
after  there  came  a  shout  from  far  across   the  black 


590  BENZIL  QUARRIER 

surface.  Denzil  replied  to  it,  and  so  at  length  the  boat 
drew  near. 

Mr.  Liversedge  stood  up,  and  Quarrier  talked  with 
him  in  brief,  grave  sentences.  Then  a  second  lantern 
was  lighted  by  the  boatman,  and  presently  the  dragging 
began. 

Wrapped  in  a  long  cloak,  Mrs.  Wade  stood  at  a 
distance,  out  of  sight  of  the  water,  but  able  to  watch 
Denzil.  When  cold  and  weariness  all  but  overcame 
her,  she  first  leaned  against  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  then 
crouched  there  on  the  ground.  For  how  long,  she  had 
no  idea.  A  little  rain  fell,  and  afterwards  the  sky 
showed  signs  of  clearing;  stars  were  again  visible  here 
and  there.  She  had  sunk  into  a  half-unconscious  state, 
when  Quarrier's  voice  spoke  to  her. 

"  You  must  go  home,"  he  said,  hoarsely.     "  It's  over." 

She  started  up. 

"  Have  they  found  " 

"  Yes. — Go  home  at  once." 

He  turned  away,  and  she  hurried  from  the  spot  with 
bowed  head. 


XXVI 

"  Oh,  depend  upou  it,"  said  Mrs.  Tenterden,  in  her 
heavy,  consequential  way,  "  there's  more  behind  than 
we  shall  ever  know !  '  Unsound  mind,'  indeed !  She 
was  no  more  of  unsound  mind  than  /  am ! " 

It  was  after  church,  and  Mrs.  Mumbray,  alone 
this  morning,  had  offered  the  heavy  lady  a  place  in  her 
brougham.  The  whole  congregation  had  but  one  topic 
as  they  streamed  into  the  unconsecrated  daylight. 
Never  was  such  eagerness  for  the  strains  of  the  volun- 
tary which  allowed  them  to  start  up  from  attitudes  of 
profound  meditation,  and  look  round  for  their  acquaint- 
ances. Yesterday's  paper — the  PoUerliam  Examiner 
unfortunately — reported  the  inquest,  and  people  had  to 
make  the  most  of  those  meagre  paragraphs— until  the 
Mercury  came  out,  when  fuller  and  less  considerate 
details  might  be  hoped  for.  The  whispering,  the  nod- 
ding, the  screwing  up  of  lips,  the  portentous  frowning 
and  the  shaking  of  heads — no  such  excitement  was  on 
record ! 

"To  me,"  remarked  Mrs.  Mumbray,  with  an  air  of 
great  responsibility,  "  the  mystery  is  too  plain.  I  don't 
hint  at  the  loorst — it  would  be  uncharitable — but  the 
poor  creature  had  undoubtedly  made  some  discovery  in 
that  woman's  house  which  drove  her  to  despair." 

Mrs.  Tenterden  gave  a  start. 


292  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  You  really  think  so  ?  That  has  occurred  to  me. 
Mrs.  Wade's  fainting  when  she  gave  her  evidence — oh 
dear,  oh  dear !  I'm  afraid  there  can  be  only  one 
explanation." 

"  That  is  our  honourahle  member,  my  dear  !  "  threw 
out  Mrs.  Mumbray.  "  These  are  Radical  principles — in 
man  and  woman.  Why,  I  am  told  that  scarcely  a  day 
passed  without  Mrs.  Wade  calling  at  the  house." 

"And  they  tell  me  that  he  was  frequently  at  hers!" 

"  That  poor  young  wife !  Oh,  it  is  shameful !  The 
matter  oughtn't  to  end  here.  Something  ought  to  be 
done.     If  that  man  is  allowed  to  keep  his  seat " 

Many  were  the  conjectures  put  forward  and  discussed 
throughout  the  day,  but  this  of  Mrs.  Mumbray's — 
started  of  course  in  several  quarters — found  readiest 
acceptance  in  Conservative  circles.  Mrs.  Wade  was 
obviously  the  cause  of  what  had  hapjaened — no  wonder 
she  fainted  at  the  inquest;  no  wonder  she  hid  herself  in 
her  cottage !  When  she  ventui*ed  to  come  out,  virtuous 
Polterham  would  let  her  know  its  mind.  Quarrier 
shared  in  the  condemnation,  but  not  even  political 
animosity  dealt  so  severely  with  him  as  social  opinion 
did  with  Mrs.  Wade. 

Mr.  Chown — who  would  on  no  account  have  been 
seen  in  a  place  of  worship — went  about  all  day  among 
his  congenial  gossips,  and  scornfully  contested  the 
rumour  that  Quarrier's  relations  with  Mrs.  Wade  would 
not  bear  looking  into.  At  the  house  of  Mr.  Murgatroyd, 
the  Eadical  dentist,  he  found  two  or  three  friends  who 
were  very  anxious  not  to  think,  evil  of  their  victorious 
leader,  but  felt  wholly  at  a  loss  for  satisfactory  explana- 
tions. Mr.  Vawdrey,  the  coal-merchant,  talked  with 
gruff  discontent. 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  293 

"I  don't  believe  there's  been  anything  Avrong;  I 
couldn't  think  it — neither  of  him  nor  her.  But  I  do 
say  it's  a  lesson  to  you  men  who  go  in  for  Female  Suf- 
frage. Now,  this  is  just  the  kind  of  thing  that  'ud 
always  be  happening.  If  there  isn't  wrong-doing, 
there'll  be  wrong-speaking.  Women  have  no  business 
in  politics,  that's  the  plain  moral  of  it.  Let  them  keep 
at  home  and  do  their  duty." 

"  Humbug ! "  cried  Mr.  Chown,  who  cared  little  for 
the  graces  of  dialogue.  "  A  political  principle  is  not  to 
be  at  the  mercy  of  party  scandal.  I,  for  my  part,  have 
never  maintained  that  women  were  ripe  for  public 
duties ;  but  Eadicalism  involves  the  certainty  that  they 
some  day  will  be.  The  fact  of  the  matter  is  that  Mrs. 
Quarrier  was  a  woman  of  unusually  feeble  physique. 
We  all  know — those  of  us,  at  all  events,  who  keep  up 
with  the  science  of  the  day — that  the  mind  is  entirely 
dependent  upon  the  body— entirely ! "  He  looked  round, 
daring  his  friends  to  contradict  this,  "Mrs.  Quarrier 
had  overtaxed  her  strength,  and  it's  just  possible — I  say 
it's  just  possible — that  her  husband  was  not  very  prudent 
in  sending  her  for  necessary  repose  to  the  house  of 
a  woman  so  active-minded  and  so  excitable  as  Mrs. 
Wade.  We  must  remember  the  peculiar  state  of  her 
health.  As  far  as  /  am  concerned.  Dr.  Jenkins's 
evidence  is  final,  and  entirely  satisfactory.  As  for  the 
dirty  calumnies  of  dirty-minded  reactionists,  /  am  not 
the  man  to  give  ear  to  them ! " 

One  man  there  was  who  might  have  been  expected 
to  credit  such  charges,  yet  surprised  his  acquaintances 
by  what  seemed  an  unwonted  exercise  of  charity.  Mr. 
Scatchard  Vialls,  hitherto  active  in  defamation  of 
Quarrier,  with  amiable  inconsistency  refused  to  believe 


294  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

him  guilty  of  conduct  wliich  had  driven  his  wife  to 
suicide.  It  was  some  days  before  the  rumour  reached 
his  ears.  Since  the  passage  of  arras  with  Serena^  he  had 
held  aloof  from  Mrs.  Mumbray's  drawing-room,  and 
his  personality  did  not  invite  the  confidence  of  ordinary 
scandal-mongers.  When  at  length  his  curate  hinted  to 
him  what  was  being  said,  he  had  so  clearly  formulated 
his  own  theory  of  Mrs.  Quarrier's  death  that  only  the 
strongest  evidence  would  have  led  him  to  reconsider  it. 
Obstinacy  and  intellectual  conceit  forbade  him  to  in- 
dulge his  disposition  to  paint  an  enemy's  character  in 
the  darkest  colours. 

"  No,  Mr.  Blenkinsop,"  he  replied  to  the  submissive 
curate,  standing  on  his  hearthrug  at  full  height  and 
regarding  the  cornice  as  his  habit  was  when  he  began  to 
monologize — "no,  I  find  it  impossible  to  entertain  such 
an  accusation.  I  have  little  reason  to  think  well  of  Mr. 
Quarrier;  he  is  intemperate,  in  many  senses  of  the 
word,  and  intemperance,  it  is  true,  connects  closely  with 
the  most  odious  crimes.  But  in  this  case  censure  has 
been  too  quick  to  interpret  suspicious  circumstances — 
suspicious,  I  admit.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  speak  in 
defence  of  such  a  person  as  Mrs,  Wade;  I  think  she  is  a 
source  of  incalculable  harm  to  all  who  are  on  friendly 
terms  with  her — especially  young  and  impressionable 
women;  but  you  must  trust  my  judgment  in  this 
instance :  I  am  convinced  she  is  not  guilty.  Her  agita- 
tion in  the  coroner's  court  has  no  special  significance. 
No;  the  solution  of  the  mystery  is  not  so  simple;  it 
involves  wider  issues — calls  for  a  more  profound  interpre- 
tation of  character  and  motives.  Mrs.  Quarrier — pray 
attend  to  this,  Mr.  Blenkinsop — represents  a  type  of 
woman   becoming,  I   have   reason   to  think,  only  too 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  295 

common  in  our  time,  women  who  cultivate  the  intellect 
at  the  expense  of  tlie  moral  nature,  who  abandon  religion 
and  think  they  have  found  a  substitute  for  it  in  the 
so-called  humanitarianism  of  the  day.  Strong-minded 
women,  you  will  hear  them  called;  in  truth,  they  are  the 
weakest  of  their  sex.  Let  their  energies  be  submitted 
to  any  unusual  strain,  let  their  nerves  (they  are  always 
morbid)  be  overwrought,  and  they  snap  !  "  He  illus- 
trated the  catastrophe  with  his  hands.  "Unaided  by 
religion,  the  female  nature  is  irresponsible,  unaccount- 
able." Mr.  Vialls  had  been  severe  of  late  in  his  judg- 
ment of  women.  "Mrs.  Quarrier,  poor  creature,  was 
the  victim  of  immoderate  zeal  for  worldly  ends.  She 
was  abetted  by  her  husband  and  by  Mrs.  Wade;  they 
excited  her  to  the  point  of  frenzy,  and  in  the  last 
moment  she — snapped  !  Mrs.  Wade's  hysterical  dis- 
play is  but  another  illustration  of  the  same  thing. 
These  woman  have  no  supjDort  outside  themselves — 
they  have  deliberately  cast  away  everything  of  the 
kind. 

"  Let  me  exhibit  my  meaning  from  another  point  of 
view.     Consider,  Mr.  Blenkinsop  " 

Quarrier,  in  the  meantime,  was  very  far  from  sus- 
pecting the  accusation  which  hostile  ingenuity  had 
brought  against  him.  Decency  would  in  any  case  have 
necessitated  his  Avithdrawal  for  the  present  from  public 
affairs,  and,  in  truth,  he  was  stricken  down  by  his  calamity. 
The  Liversedges  had  brought  him  to  their  house;  he 
transacted  no  business,  and  saw  no  one  beyond  the 
family  circle.  At  the  funeral  people  had  thought  him 
strangely  unmoved;  pride  forbade  him  to  make  an 
exhibition  of  grief,  but  in  secret  he  suffered  as  only  a 
strong  man  can.     His  love  for  Lilian  was  the  deepest 


296  DENZIL  QUARRtER 

his  life  would  know.  Till  now,  he  had  not  understood 
how  unspeakably  precious  she  was  to  him ;  for  the  most 
part  he  had  treated  her  with  playful  good-humour, 
seldom,  if  ever,  striking  the  note  of  passion  in  his  speech. 
With  this  defect  he  reproached  himself.  Lilian  had  not 
learnt  to  trust  him  sufficiently;  she  feared  the  result 
upon  him  of  such  a  blow  as  Northway  had  it  in  his 
power  to  inflict.  It  was  thus  he  interpreted  her  suicide, 
for  Mrs.  AVade  had  told  him  that  Lilian  believed  disaster 
to  be  imminent.  Surely  he  was  to  blame  for  it  that,  at 
such  a  pass,  she  had  fled  away  from  him  instead  of 
hastening  to  his  side.  How  perfectly  had  their 
characters  harmonized  !  He  could  recall  no  moment  of 
mutual  dissatisfaction,  and  that  in  spite  of  conditions 
which,  with  most  women,  would  have  made  life  very 
difficult.  He  revered  her  purity;  her  intellect  he 
esteemed  far  subtler  and  nobler  than  his  own.  With 
such  a  woman  for  companion,  he  might  have  done 
great  things;  robbed  for  ever  of  her  beloved  presence, 
he  felt  lame,  purposeless,  indifferent  to  all  but  the 
irrecoverable  past. 

In  a  day  or  two  he  was  to  leave  Polterham.  Whether 
Northway  would  be  satisfied  with  the  result  of  his 
machinations  remained  to  be  seen;  as  yet  nothing  more 
had  been  heard  of  him.  The  fellow  was  perhaps 
capable  of  demanding  more  hush-money,  of  threatening 
the  memory  of  the  woman  he  had  killed.  Quarrier 
hoped  more  earnestly  than  ever  that  the  secret  would 
not  be  betrayed ;  he  scorned  vulgar  opinion,  so  far  as  it 
affected  himself,  but  could  not  bear  the  thought  of 
Lilian's  grave  being  defiled  by  curiosity  and  reprobation. 
The  public  proceedings  had  brought  to  light  nothing 
whatever  that  seemed  in  conflict  with  medical  evidence 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  297 

and  the  finding  of  the  coroner's  jury.  One  dangerous 
witness  had  necessarily  come  forward — Mrs.  Wade's 
servant;  but  the  girl  made  no  kind  of  allusion  to 
Northway's  visit — did  not,  in  her  own  mind,  connect  it 
with  Mrs.  Quarrier's  behaviour.  She  was  merely  asked 
to  describe  in  what  way  the  unfortunate  lady  had  left 
the  house.  In  Glazzard  and  Mrs.  Wade,  Denzil  of 
course  reposed  perfect  confidence.  Northway,  if  need 
were,  could  and  should  be  bought  off. 

Toby  Liversedge  got  wind  of  the  scandal  in  circula- 
tion, and  his  rage  knew  no  bounds.  Lest  his  wife 
should  somehow  make  the  discovery,  he  felt  obliged  to 
speak  to  her — representing  the  charge  in  its  mildest 
form. 

"There's  a  vile  story  going  about  that  Lilian  was 
jealous  of  Mrs.  Wade's  influence  with  Denzil;  that  the 
two  quarrelled  that  day  at  the  cottage,  and  the  poor 
girl  drowned  herself  in  despair." 

Mary  looked  shocked,  but  was  silent. 

"I  suppose,"  added  her  husband,  "we  must  be 
prepared  for  all  sorts  of  rumours.  The  thing  is 
unintelligible  to  people  in  general.  Any  one  who  knew 
her,  and  saw  her  those  last  days,  can  understand  it  only 
too  well." 

"Yes,"  murmured  Mrs.  Liversedge,  with  sad  thought- 
fulness. 

She  would  not  speak  further  on  the  subject,  and  Toby 
concluded  that  the  mere  suggestion  gave  her  offence. 

On  the  day  after  Denzil  departed,  leaving  by  a  night 
train  for  London. 

He  was  in  town  for  a  week,  then  took  a  voyage  to 
Madeira,  where  he  remained  until  there  was  only  time 
enough  to  get  back  for  the  opening  of  Parliament.    The 


298  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

natural  plea  of  shaken  health  excused  him  to  his  con- 
stituents, many  of  whom  favoured  him  with  their 
unsolicited  correspondence.  (He  had  three  or  four  long 
letters  from  Mr.  Chown,  who  thought  it  necessary  to 
keep  the  borough  member  posted  in  the  course  of 
English  politics.)  From  Glazzard  he  heard  twice,  with 
cheerful  news.  "  How  it  happened/'  he  had  written  to 
his  newly-married  friend,  in  telling  of  Lilian's  death, 
"I  will  exj^lain  some  day;  I  cannot  speak  of  it  yet." 
Glazzard's  response  was  full  of  manly  sympathy.  "I 
don't  pretend,"  wrote  the  connoisseur,  "that  I  am 
ideally  mated,  but  my  wife  is  a  good  girl,  and  I  under- 
stand enough  of  happiness  in  marriage  to  appreciate  to 
the  full  how  terrible  is  your  loss.  Let  confidences  be 
for  the  future ;  if  they  do  not  come  naturally,  be  assured 
I  shall  never  pain  you  by  a  question." 

Denzil's  book  had  now  been  for  several  weeks  before 
the  public;  it  would  evidently  excite  little  attention. 
"  A  capital  present  for  a  schoolboy,"  was  one  of  the 
best  things  the  critics  had  yet  found  to  say  of  it.  He 
suffered  disappointment,  but  did  not  seriously  resent  the 
world's  indifference.  Honestly  speaking,  was  the  book 
worth  much?  The  writing  had  at  first  amused  him; 
in  the  end  it  had  grown  a  task.  Literature  was  not  his 
field. 

Back,  then,  to  politics!  There  he  knew  his  force. 
He  was  looking  to  the  first  taste  of  Parliament  with 
decided  eagerness. 

In  Madeira  he  chanced  to  make  acquaintance  with  an 
oldish  man  who  had  been  in  Parliament  for  a  good 
many  years  ;  a  Eadical,  an  idealist,  sore  beset  with 
physical  ailments.  This  gentleman  found  pleasure  in 
Denzil's  society,  talked  politics  to  him  with  contagious 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  299 

fervour,  and  greatly  aided  the  natural  process  whereby 
Quarrier  was  recovering  his  interest  in  the  career  before 
him. 

"  My  misfortune  is/'  Denzil  one  day  confided  to  this 
friend,  "that  I  detest  the  town  and  the  people  that 
have  elected  me." 

"  Indeed  ? "    returned     the    other,    with    a    laugh, 

"  Then  lay  yourself  out  to  become  my  successor  at 

when  a  general  election  comes  round  again.  I  hope  to 
live  out  this  Parliament,  but  sha'n't  try  for  another." 

About  the  same  time  he  had  a  letter  from  Mrs. 
Wade,  now  in  London,  wherein,  oddly  enough,  was  a 
passage  running  thus: 

"  You  say  that  the  thought  of  representing  Polter- 
ham  spoils  your  pleasure  in  looking  forward  to  a 
political  life.  Statesmen  (and  you  will  become  one) 
have  to  be  trained  to  bear  many  disagreeable  things. 
But  you  are  not  bound  to  Polterham  for  ever — the  gods 
forbid!  Serve  them  in  this  Parliament,  and  in  the 
meantime  try  to  find  another  borough." 

It  was  his  second  letter  from  Mrs,  Wade;  the  first 
had  been  a  mere  note,  asking  if  he  could  bear  to  hear 
from  her,  and  if  he  would  let  her  know  of  his  health. 
He  replied  rather  formally,  considering  the  terms  on 
which  they  stood;  and,  indeed,  it  did  not  gratify  him 
much  to  be  assured  of  the  widow's  constant  friendship. 


XXVII 

Something  less  than  a  year  after  his  marriage,  Glaz- 
zard  was  summoned  back  to  England  by  news  of  his 
brother's  death.  On  the  point  of  quitting  Highmead, 
Avith  Ivy,  for  a  sojourn  abroad,  William  Glazzard  had 
an  apoplectic  seizure  and  died  within  the  hour.  His 
affairs  were  in  disorder;  he  left  no  will;  for  some  time 
it  would  remain  uncertain  whether  the  relatives  in- 
herited anything  but  debt. 

Eustace  and  his  wife  took  a  house  in  the  north  of 
London,  a  modest  temporary  abode.  There,  at  the 
close  of  March,  Serena  gave  birth  to  a  child. 

During  the  past  year  Glazzard  had  returned  to  his  old 
amusement  of  modelling  in  clay.  He  drew  and  painted, 
played  and  composed,  at  intervals ;  but  plastic  art  seemed 
to  have  the  strongest  hold  upon  him.  Through  April  he 
was  busy  with  a  head  for  which  he  made  many  studies 
— a  head  of  Judas;  in  Italy  he  had  tried  to  paint  the 
same  subject,  but  ineffectually.  The  face  in  its  latest 
development  seemed  to  afford  him  some  satisfaction. 

One  morning,  early  in  May,  Serena  was  sitting  with 
him  in  the  room  he  used  as  a  studio.  Experience  of  life, 
and  a  certain  measure  of  happiness,  had  made  the  raw 
girl  a  very  pleasing  and  energetic  woman ;  her  face  was 
comely,  her  manner  refined,  she  spoke  softly  and 
thoughtfully,  but  with  spirit. 

"  It  is  wonderful,"  she  said,  after  gazing  long,  with 
knitted  brows,  at  the  Judas,  "  but  horrible.  I  wish  it 
hadn't  taken  hold  of  you  so." 

"  Taken  hold  of  me  ?     I  care  very  little  about  it." 


DENZIL   QUARRIER  301 

"  Oh,  nonsense !  That's  your  worst  fault,  Eustace. 
You  seem  ashamed  of  being  in  earnest.  I  wish  you 
had  found  a  pleasanter  subject,  but  I  am  delighted  to 
see  you  do  something.     Is  it  quite  finished  ?  " 

A  servant  appeared  at  the  door. 

"  Mr.  Quarrier  wishes  to  see  you,  sir." 

Denzil  entered,  and  had  a  friendly  greeting.  The 
Glazzards  did  not  see  much  of  him,  for  he  was  over 
head  and  ears  in  politics,  social  questions,  philanthropic 
undertakings — these  last  in  memory  of  Lilian,  whose 
spirit  had  wrought  strongly  in  him  since  her  death.  He 
looked  a  much  riper  and  graver  man  than  a  year  ago. 
His  language  was  moderate ;  he  bore  himself  reservedly, 
at  moments  with  diffidence.  But  there  was  the  old  frank 
cordiality  undiminished.  To  Serena  he  sj)oke  with  the 
gentle  courtesy  which  marks  a  man's  behaviour  to 
women  when  love  and  grief  dwell  together  in  his  heart. 

"  Our  friend  Judas  ? "  he  said,  stepping  up  to  the 
model.     "  Finished  at  last  ?  " 

"  Something  like  it,"  Glazzard  replied,  tapping  the 
back  of  his  hand  with  a  tool. 

"  Discontented,  as  usual!  I  know  nothing  about  this 
kind  of  thing,  but  I  should  say  it  was  very  good. 
Makes  one  uncomfortable — doesn't  it,  Mrs.  Glazzard  ? 
Do  something  pleasanter  next  time." 

"  Precisely  what  I  was  saying,"  fell  from  Serena. 

They  talked  awhile,  and  Mrs.  Glazzard  left  the  room. 

"  I  want  to  know  your  mind  on  a  certain  point,"  said 
Denzil.  "  Mrs.  AVade  has  been  asking  me  to  bring  her 
together  with  your  wife  and  you.  Noav,  what  is  your 
feeling  ?  " 

The  other  stood  in  hesitation,  but  his  features 
expressed  no  pleasure. 

"  What  is  your  feeling  ? "  he  asked,  in  return. 


302  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  Why,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  can't  advise  you  to 
make  a  friend  of  her.  I'm  sorry  to  say  she  has  got 
into  a  very  morbid  state  of  mind.  I  see  more  of  her 
than  I  care  to.  She  has  taken  up  with  a  lot  of  people 
I  don't  like— rampant  women — extremists  of  many 
kinds.  There's  only  one  thing:  it's  perhaps  my  duty 
to  try  and  get  her  into  a  more  sober  way  of  life,  and 

if  all  steady-going  people  reject  her Still,  I   don't 

think  either  you  or  your  wife  would  like  to  have  her 
constantly  coming  here." 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Glazzard,  with  averted  face. 

"  Well,  I  shall  tell  her  that  she  would  find  you  very 
unsympathetic.  I'm  sorry  for  her;  I  wish  she  could 
recover  a  healthy  mind." 

He  brooded  for  a  moment,  and  the  lines  that  came 
into  his  face  gave  it  an  expression  of  unrest  and  melan- 
choly out  of  keeping  with  its  natural  tone. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  was  gone,  and  presently  Serena 
returned  to  the  studio.  She  found  her  husband  in  a 
dark  reverie,  a  mood  to  which  he  often  yielded,  which 
she  always  did  her  best  to  banish. 

"Do  you  think,  Eustace,"  she  asked,  "that  Mr. 
Quarrier  will  marry  again  ?  " 

"  Oh,  some  day,  of  course." 

"  I  shall  be  sorry.  There's  something  I  have  often 
meant  to  tell  you  about  his  wife;  I  will  now." 

He  looked  up  attentively.  Serena  had  never  been  ad- 
mitted to  his  confidence  regarding  Lilian's  story;  to  her, 
the  suicide  was  merely  a  woful  result  of  disordered  health. 

"But  for  her,"  she  continued,  smiling  archly,  "I 
should  perhaps  not  have  married  you.  I  was  distracted 
with  doubts  about  myself  and  about  you.  Then  I  went 
to  Mrs.  Quarrier,  and — what  a  thing  to  do! — asked  her 
what  she  thought  of  you !     She  told  me,  and  I  came 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  303 

away  without  a  doubt  left.— That's  why  I  cried  so  much 
when  we  heard  of  her  death,  I  should  have  told  you 
then  if  you  hadn't  got  vexed  with  me — I'm  sure  I  don't 
know  why." 

Glazzard  laughed,  and  dismissed  the  subject  carelessly, 

Not  long  after,  he  was  alone.  After  much  pacing 
about  the  room,  he  came  to  a  stand  before  his  clay 
master-piece,  and  stared  at  it  as  though  the  dull  eyes 
fascinated  him.  Of  a  sudden  he  raised  his  fist  and 
with  one  blow  beat  the  head  into  a  shapeless  mass. 

Then  he  went  out,  locking  the  door  behind  him. 

On  leaving  the  Glazzards,  Quarrier  pursued  the 
important  business  that  had  brought  him  into  this  part 
of  London.  He  drove  to  a  hospital,  newly  opened,  Avith 
which  he  was  connected  in  the  capacity  of  treasurer. 
Talk  with  the  secretary  occupied  him  for  half  an  hour; 
about  to  set  forth  again,  he  encountered  on  the  staircase 
two  ladies,  the  one  a  hospital  nurse,  the  other  Mrs.  Wade. 

"Could  you  grant  me  five  minutes?"  asked  the 
widow,  earnestly.  "  I  didn't  hope  to  see  you  here,  and 
must  have  called  upou  you — but  you  are  so  busy." 

There  was  a  humility  in  her  suppressed  voice  which, 
had  the  speaker  been  another  person,  would  have 
prepared  Denzil  for  some  mendicant  petition  of  the 
politer  kind.     She  spoke  hurriedly,  as  if  fearing  a  rebuff. 

"  Let  us  step  this  way,"  he  said,  opening  a  door  which 
led  into  an  unoccupied  room. 

Mrs.  Wade  was  dressed  rather  more  simply  than  had 
been  her  wont  when  she  lived  at  Polterham.  One  con- 
jectured that  her  circumstances  were  not  improved. 
She  looked  tired,  harassed ;  her  eyes  wanted  something 
of  their  former  brightness,  and  she  had  the  appearance 
of  a  much  older  woman. 

There  were  no  seats  in  the  room.     (Quarrier  did  not 


304  DENZIL   QUARRIER 

refer  to  the  fact,  but  stood  in  an  attitude  of  friendly 
attention. 

"  I  saw  Northway  yesterday,"  Mrs.  Wade  began. 

The  listener's  face  expressed  annoyance. 

"  Need  we  speak  of  him  ?  "  he  said,  briefly. 

"I  am  obliged  to.  He  told  me  something  which  I 
had  long  suspected — something  you  certainly  must  learn." 

"  Is  it  a  fresh  attack  on  my  pocket  ?  "  asked  Denzil, 
with  resignation. 

"No,  but  something  that  will  grieve  you  far  more. 
I  have  been  trying  for  a  long  time  to  get  it  out  of  him, 
and  now  that  I  have  succeeded  I  almost  wish  the 
thought  had  never  occurred  to  me." 

"  Pray,  pray  don't  keep  me  in  suspense,  Mrs,  "Wade." 

"Northway  did  not  make  his  discovery  by  chance. 
You  were  betrayed  to  him — by  a  seeming  friend." 

Denzil  looked  steadily  at  her. 

"A  friend?  —  He  has  deceived  you.  Only  one 
acquaintance  of  mine  knew." 

"  Mr.  Glazzard,  It  was  he  who  laid  a  plot  for  your 
downfall," 

Quarrier  moved  imj^atiently, 

"Mrs,  Wade,  you  are  being  i^layed  upon  by  this 
scoundrel.     There  is  no  end  to  his  contrivances." 

"  No,  he  has  told  me  the  truth,"  she  pursued,  with 
agitated  voice,     "  Listen  to  the  story,  first  of  all," 

She  related  to  him,  in  accurate  detail,  all  that  had 
passed  between  Northway  and  Mr,  Marks, 

"And  Mr,  Marks  was  Mr,  Glazzard,  undoubtedly. 
His  description  tallies  exactly." 

Denzil  broke  out  indignantly : 

"  The  whole  thing  is  a  fabrication !  I  not  only  tvonH 
believe  it,  but  simply  can't.  You  say  that  you  have 
suspected  this  ? " 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  305 

"I  have — from  the  moment  when  Lilian  told  me 
that  Mr.  Glazzard  knew/' 

"That's  astounding!— Then  why  should  you  have 
desired  to  be  on  friendly  terms  with  the  Glazzards?" 

Mrs.  Wade  sank  her  eyes. 

"  I  hoped,"  she  made  answer,  "  to  find  out  something. 
I  had  only  in  view  to  serve  you/' 

"You  have  deluded  yourself,  and  been  deluded,  in 
the  strangest  way.  Now,  I  will  give  you  one  reason  (a 
very  odd,  but  a  very  satisfactory  one)  why  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  believe  Glazzard  guilty  of  such  baseness — setting 
aside  the  obvious  fact  that  he  had  no  motive.  He  goes 
in  for  modelling  in  clay,  and  for  some  time  he  has  been 
busy  on  a  very  fine  head.  What  head  do  you  think  ? — 
That  of  Judas  Iscariot." 

He  laughed. 

"  Now,  a  man  guilty  of  abominable  treachery  would 
not  choose  for  an  artistic  subject  the  image  of  an  arch- 
traitor." 

Mrs.  Wade  smiled  strangely  as  she  listened  to  his 
scornful  demonstration. 

"  You  have  given  me,"  she  said,  "  a  most  important 
piece  of  evidence  in  support  of  Northway's  story." 

Denzil  was  ill  at  ease.  He  could  not  dismiss  this 
lady  with  contempt.  Impossible  that  he  should  not 
have  learnt  by  this  time  the  meaning  of  her  perpetual 
assiduity  on  his  behalf;  the  old  friendliness  (never  very 
warm)  had  changed  to  a  compassion  which  troubled 
him.  Her  image  revived  such  painful  memories  that 
he  would  have  welcomed  any  event  which  put  her 
finally  at  a  distance  from  him.  The  Polterham  scandal, 
though  not  yet  dead,  had  never  come  to  his  ears;  had 
he  known  it,  he  could  scarcely  have  felt  more  con- 
strained in  her  society. 


306  DENZIL  QtJARMER 

"  Will  you  oblige  me/'  he  said,  with  kindness,  "  by 
never  speaking  of  this  again  ?  " 

"If  you  will  first  grant  me  one  test  of  my  opinion. 
Will  you  meet  Northway  in  some  public  place  where 
Mr.  Glazzard  can  be  easily  seen,  and  ask  the  man  to 
point  out  his  informant — Mr.  Marks  ?  " 

After  much  debate,  and  with  great  reluctance,  he 
consented.  From  his  conversation  of  an  hour  ago  he 
knew  that  Glazzard  would  be  at  the  Academy  on  the 
morrow.  He  had  expressed  a  hope  for  a  meeting  there. 
At  the  Academy,  accordingly,  the  test  should  be 
applied.  It  was  all  a  fabrication;  Northway,  laying 
some  new  plot,  might  already  know  Glazzard  by  sight. 
But  the  latter  should  be  put  on  his  guard,  and  Mrs. 
Wade  should  then  be  taught  that  henceforth  she  was  for- 
bidden to  concern  hei*self  with  his — Quarrier's — affairs. 

He  went  home  and  passed  a  cheerless  time  until  the 
next  morning.  Susjiicion,  in  spite  of  himself,  crept 
into  his  thoughts.  He  was  sick  at  heart  under  the 
necessity,  perhaps  life-long,  of  protecting  Lilian's  name 
against  a  danger  which  in  itself  was  a  sort  of  pollution. 
His  sanguine  energy  enabled  him  to  lose  the  thought, 
at  ordinary  times,  of  the  risks  to  which  he  himself  was 
exposed;  but  occasionally  he  reflected  that  public  life 
might  even  yet  be  made  impossible  for  him,  and  then 
he  cursed  the  moral  stupidity  of  people  in  general. 

At  eleven  o'clock  next  morning  he  entered  Burlington 
House.  In  the  vestibule  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  stood 
Mrs.  Wade,  and  Northway,  indistinguishable  from 
ordinary  frequenters  of  the  exhibition,  was  not  far  off. 
This  gentleman  had  a  reason  for  what  he  was  doing  ; 
he  wished  to  discover  who  Mr.  Marks  really  was,  and 
what  (since  the  political  plea  could  no  longer  be 
credited)  had  been  his  interest  in  Lilian. 


DENZIL  QUARRIER  307 

"  He  is  liere  already/'  said  Mrs.  Wade,  as  she  Joined 
DenziL     "  Among  the  sculpture — the  inner  room." 

"Then  I  shall  follow  you  at  a  distance.  Challenge 
that  fellow  to  go  up  to  Glazzard  and  address  him  as 
Mr.  Marks." 

The  widow  led  in  the  direction  she  had  indicated, 
through  the  central  hall,  then  to  the  right.  North- 
way  following  close.  Denzil  had,  of  course,  to  take  it 
for  granted  that  Mrs.  Wade  was  acting  honourably;  he 
did  not  doubt  her  good  faith.  If  it  came  to  a  mere 
conflict  of  assertions  between  his  friend  and  North  way,  he 
knew  which  of  them  to  believe.  But  he  was  much  per- 
turbed, and  moved  forward  with  a  choking  in  his  throat. 

Arrived  at  the  threshold  of  the  Lecture  Room,  he 
saw  that  only  some  dozen  people  were  standing  about. 
No  sooner  had  he  surveyed  them  than  he  became  aware 
that  Northway  was  sauntering  directly  towards  the 
place  where  Glazzard  stood;  Mrs.  Wade  remained  in 
the  doorway.  Unperceived,  the  informer  came  close 
behind  his  confederate  and  spoke  quietly. 

Glazzard  turned  as  if  some  one  had  struck  him. 

It  was  forcible  evidence,  confirmed  moreover  by  the 
faces  of  the  two  men  as  they  exchanged  a  few  words. 

Seeing  Northway  retire,  Quarrier  said  to  Mrs.  Wade : 

"  Please  to  go  away.     You  have  done  your  part." 

With  a  look  of  humble  entreaty,  she  obeyed  him. 
Denzil,  already  observed  by  Glazzard,  stepped  forward. 

"  Do  you  know  that  man  ? "  he  asked,  jioiuting  to 
Northway,  who  affected  a  study  of  some  neighbouring 
work  of  art. 

"  I  have  met  him,"  was  the  subdued  answer. 

It  was  necessary  to  speak  so  that  attention  should  not 
be  drawn  hither.  Though  profoundly  agitated,  Quarrier 
controlled  himself  sufficiently  to  use  a  very  low  tone. 


308  DENZIL  QUARRIER 

"  He  has  told  an  incredible  story,  Glazzard.     I  sha'n't 
believe  it  unless  it  is  confirmed  by  your  own  lips/' 
"  I  have  no  doubt  he  has  told  the  truth." 
Denzil  drew  back. 
"  But  do  you  know  ivhat  he  has  said  ?  " 

"  I  guess  from  the  way  he  addressed  me — as  Mr. 
Markso" 

Glazzard  was  deadly  pale,  but  he  smiled  persistently, 
and  with  an  expression  of  relief. 

"  You — yoM — betrayed  us  to  him  ?  " 

"I  did." 

Each  could  hear  the  other's  breathing. 

"  Why  did  you  do  that  ? "  asked  Denzil,  the  excess 
of  his  astonishment  declaring  itself  in  a  tone  which 
would  have  suited  some  every-day  inquiry.  He  could 
not  speak  otherwise. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  why  I  did  it.  I'm  not  sure  that 
I  quite  understand  now.  I  did  it,  and  there's  no  more 
to  be  said." 

Denzil  turned  away,  and  stood  with  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  ground.  A  minute  passed,  and  Glazzard's  voice 
again  sounded  close  to  him. 

"Quarrier,  you  can't  forgive  me,  and  I  don't  wish 
you  to.  But  may  I  hope  that  you  won't  let  my  wife 
know  of  it  ?  " 

"You  are  safe  from  me,"  answered  Denzil,  barely 
glancing  at  him,  and  at  once  Avalked  away. 

He  returned  to  the  vestibule,  descended  the  stairs, 
went  out  into  the  court.  There,  aside  from  vehicles 
and  people,  he  let  his  thoughts  have  their  way. 
Presently  they  summed  themselves  in  a  sentence  which 
involuntarily  he  spoke  aloud  : 

"  Now  I  understand  the  necessity  for  social  law  !  " 


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NEW   UNIFORM    EDITION   OF 


F.  MARION  CRAWFORD'S  NOVELS. 

Messrs.  Macmillan  &  Co. 
have  much  pleasure  in  an- 
nouncing  that  they  are  about 
to  issue  a  Nezv  Edition  of 
F.  Marion  Crawford's  Novels 
in  montJily  \2mo  volumes,  in 
uniform  cloth  binding,  at  One 
Dollar  per  volume.  The  vol- 
umes will  be  issued  in  the  fol- 
lowing order:  — 

F.   MARION   CRAWFORD. 

MR.  ISAACS.     A  Tale  of  Modern  India      -        -        -      January. 

DOCTOR  CLAUDIUS February. 

ZOROASTER March. 

THE  THREE  FATES.     A  New  Novel  -        -        -        -  April. 

A  TALE  OF  A  LONELY  PARISH       -        -        -        -  May. 

SARACINESCA     -----.-.  June. 

MARZIO'S  CRUCIFIX July. 

WITH  THE  IMMORTALS   - August. 

GREIFENSTEIN  -        - September. 

SANT'  ILARIO October. 

A  CIGARETTE-MAKER'S  ROMANCE        -        -        -  November. 

KHALED.     A  Tale  of  Arabia December. 

THE  WITCH  OF  PRAGUE January 


MACMILLAN    &    CO, 

112  FOURTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK. 


WORKS    BY    MRS.    HUMPHRY    WARD. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    DAVID    GRIEVE. 

13mo,  cloth,  Sil.OO.     Shortly. 

ROBERT    ELSMERE. 

12mo,  cloth,  Sl.OO;     I,ibrary  Edition,  3  Vols.,  $3.00. 

The  book  is  a  drama  in  which  every  page  is  palpitating  with  intense 
and  real  life.  It  is  a  realistic  novel  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  word. — 
T/te  Whitehall  Revieiv. 

Comparable  in  sheer  intellectual  power  to  the  best  works  of  George 
Eliot.  .  .  .  Unquestionably  one  of  the  most  notable  works  of  fiction 
that  has  been  produced  for  years. ^ — The  Scotsttian. 

MR.  GLADSTONE  writes  of  this  Novel  In  the  "Nineteenth  Century," 

The  strength  of  the  book  seems  to  lie  in  an  extraordinary  wealth  of 
diction,  never  separated  from  thought ;  in  a  close  and  searching  faculty  of 
social  observation;  in  generous  appreciation  of  what  is  morally  good, 
impartially  exhibited  in  all  directions  ;  above  all  in  the  sense  of  omission 
with  which  the  writer  is  evidently  possessed,  and  in  the  earnestness  and 
persistency  of  purpose  with  which  through  every  page  and  line  it  is  pur- 
sued. The  book  is  eminently  an  offspring  of  the  time,  and  will  probably 
make  a  deep,  or  at  least  a  very  sensible  impression  ;  not,  however,  among 
mere  novel-readers,  but  among  those  who  share,  in  whatever  sense,  the 
deeper  thought  of  the  period. 

AMIEL'S   JOURNAL. 

THE  JOURNAL   INTIME   OF   HENRI-FREDERIC   AMIEL. 

TRANSLATED,     WITH   AN  INTRODUCTION   AND    NOTES. 

WITH   A    PORTRAIT. 

New  and  Cheaper  Edition.     ISmo,  $1.35. 

A  wealth  of  thought  and  a  power  of  expression  which  would  make  the 
fortune  of  a  dozen  less  able  works. — Churchman. 

A  work  of  wonderful  beauty,  depth,  and  charm.  .  .  .  Will  stand 
beside  such  confessions  as  St.  Augustine's  and  Pascal's.  ...  It  is  a 
book  to  converse  with  again  and  again  ;  fit  to  stand  among  the  clioicest 
volumes  that  we  esteem  as  friends  of  our  souls. — Christiaii  Register. 

MISS    BRETHERTON. 

12ino,  cloth  (uniform  with  "Robert  Elisuiere  "),  $1.25. 

It  shows  decided  character  and  very  considerable  originality.  ...  It 
is  full  of  earnest  womanly  sympathy  with  the  ambitions  of  a  beautiful  girl 
placed  in  false  and  difficult  positions  by  good  fortune,  which  may  possibly 
turn  to  misfortune.  .  .  .  We  are  impressed  throughout  by  the  refinement 
and  the  evidence  of  culture  which  underlie  all  the  book,  though  they  are 
seldom  or  never  obtruded. — London  Times. 

MILLY    AND    OLLY; 

OR,   A    HOLIDAY   AMONG   THE    MOUNTAINS. 
ICmo,  $1.00. 

ILLUSTRATED  BY  MRS.  ALMA-TADEMA. 
The  present  season  will  scarcely  see  a  more  charming  addition  to 
children's  literature   than    this  of  Mrs.  Ward's.      Her  book  has  seemed 
to  us  all  that  a  Christmas  gift  for  a  child  should  be. — Academy. 

MACMILLAN    &   CO., 

112  FOURTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK. 


WORKS  BY  HENRY  JAMES. 


A    NEW    VOLUME    OF    STORIES. 

THE    LESSON    OF    THE    MASTER, 

AND  OTHER  STORIES. 
12mo,   cloth  extra,  $1.00.    Jtist  Ready. 


THE    PRINCESS    CASAMASSIMA. 

12mo,  $1.25. 

We  find  no  fault  with  Mr.  Henry  James's  "  Princess  Casamassima."  It  is  a 
great  novel  ;  it  is  his  greatest,  and  it  is  incomparably  the  greatest  novel  of  the 
year  in  our  language.  .  .  .  From  first  to  last  we  find  no  weakness  in  the 
book  ;  the  drama  works  simply  and  naturally  ;  the  causes  and  effects  are 
logically  related  ;  the  theme  is  made  literature  without  ceasing  to  be  life. — 
Harper^ s  New  Monthly  Magazine^  Ediior^s  Study , 

THE    REVERBERATOR. 

12mo,  $1.00. 

The  public  will  be  glad  to  find  Mr.  James  in  his  best  vein.  One  is  thank- 
ful again  that  there  is  so  brilliant  an  American  author  to  give  us  entertaining 
sketches  of  life. — Boston  Herald. 

THE    ASPERN     PAPERS, 

AND  OTHER  STORIES. 

12mo,  $1.00. 

The  stories  are  told  with  that  mastery  of  the  art  of  story-telling  which 
their  writer  possesses  in  a  conspicuous  degree. — Literary  World. 

PARTIAL    PORTRAITS. 

12mo,  $1.75. 
Henry  James  has  never  appeared  to  better  advantage  as  an  author  than  in 
this  delightful  volume  of  critical  essays. — Boston  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

THE    BOSTONIANS. 

12mo,  $1.25. 

Unquestionably  "  The  Bostonians  "  is  not  only  the  most  brilliant  and  re- 
markable of  Mr.  James's  novels,  but  it  is  one  of  the  most  important  of  recent 
contributions  to  literature. — Boston  Courier. 

A    LONDON     LIFE, 

AND  OTHER  STORIES. 
12mo,  $1.00. 

His  short  stories,  which  are  always  bright  and  sparkling,  are  delightful. 
.    .    .    Will  bear  reading  again  and  again. — A/ail  and  Express. 

FRENCH     POETS    AND    NOVELISTS. 

12mo,  $1.50. 


MACMILLAN   &  CO., 

112    FOURTH    AVENUE,    NEW   YORK. 


WORKS    BY    J.    H.    SHORTHOUSE. 

12MO.     CLOTH,  $1.00  EACH. 


BLANCHE,    LADY    FALAISE. 

Mr.  Shorthouse  in  his  present  book  has  surpassed  himself.  We  can 
assure  the  lover  of  gfood,  strong,  clean,  honest  fiction  that  he  will  not  be 
disappointed  in  "  Blanche,  Lady  Falaise."  Every  character  is  a  study  as 
clearly  cut  as  a  cameo. — Post. 


JOHN    INGLESANT. 

A    ROMANCE. 

Will  alwrays  attract  men  who  think,  the  studious  few,  the  "elect"  of 
lite.'-ature. .  Its  sale  has  been  constant,  and  here  in  America  it  has  passed 
through  six  editions  in  as  many  years.  .  .  .  The  naturalness  of  the 
story  is  its  abounding  charm.  .  .  .  Merits  the  high  praise  of  Mr.  Glad- 
stone that,  of  its  kind,  "it  is  the  greatest  work  since  '  Romola.'  " — A.  F. 
Hunter,  in  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

SIR   PERCIVAL. 

A  STORY  OF   THE  PAST  AND   OF  THE  PRESENT. 

The  story  of  Sir  Percival  and  Constance  is  very  touching  and  beautiful, 
and  it  is  set  with  alluring  pictures  of  quiet  life  in  an  aristocratic  country- 
house,  among  gentle  people. — New  York  Tribune. 

THE    LITTLE    SCHOOL-MASTER    MARK. 

A  SPIRITUAL  ROMANCE. 

Of  this  remarkable  story,  if  it  may  be  called  a  story,  we  can  only  say 
that  it  will  bear  reading  many  times,  and  that  its  profound  spiritual 
meaning  will  come  out  more  and  more  every  time  it  is  read. — Mail  and 
Eocbfcss* 

A  TEACHER    OF   THE   VIOLIN, 

AND  OTHER   TALES. 

There  is  a  nobility  and  purity  of  thought,  a  delicacy  of  touch,  and  a 
spiritual  insight  which  have  endeared  the  work  of  this  author  to  a  large 
class  of  readers,  and  his  latest  book  is  one  to  more  than  satisfy  expectation. 
— Boston  Courier. 

THE   COUNTESS    EVE. 

It  is,  after  "John    Inglesant,"  the   most   impressive   of  the  author's 

works The  story  is  told  with  unfailing  delicacy  and  unflagging 

power.     Its  effect  is  spiritualizing. — Chicago  Tribune, 


MACMILLAN  &  CO., 

112  FOURTH  AVENUE,  NE\A^  YORK. 


WORKS    BY    RUDYARD    KIPLING. 


LIFE'S    HANDICAP. 

STORIES  OF  MINE   OWN  PEOPLE. 
12mo,  cloth.     $1.00. 

In  this  volume  the  following  stories  are  published  for  the  first  time  ! 


The  Finances  of  the  Gods. 
The  Lang  Men  c  Larut. 
Reingelder  and  the  German 

Flag. 
The  Wandering  Jew. 
Through  the  Fire. 
The  Amir's  Homily. 
Jews  in  Shushan. 


The  Limitations  of  Pambe  Se- 

RANG, 

Little  Tobrah. 

Bubbling  Well  Road. 

The  City  of  Dreadful  Night. 

Georgie  Porgie. 

Naboth. 

The  Dream  of  Duncan  Parren- 

NESS. 

No  volume  of  his  yet  published  gives  a  better  illustration  of  his  genius, 
and  of  the  weird  charm  which  have  given  his  stories  such  deserved  popularity^ 
— Boston  Daily  Traveller. 

Some  of  Mr.  Kipling's  best  work  is  in  this  volume.  Mr.  Kipling  is  a 
literary  artist  of  the  first  rank,  and  everything  in  the  way  of  short  stories  he 
has  written  thus  far  has  proved  itself  to  be  well  worth  the  reading. — Boston 
Beacon. 

PLAIN    TALES    FROM    THE    HILLS. 

Cloth.     13mo.     $1.50. 

Every  one  knows  that  it  is  not  easy  to  write  good  short  stories.  Mr. 
Kipling  has  changed  all  that.  Here  are  forty  of  them,  averaging  less  than 
eight  pages  apiece  ;  there  is  not  a  dull  one  in  the  lot.  Some  are  tragedy, 
some  broad  comedy,  some  tolerably  sharp  satire.  The  time  has  passed  to 
ignore  or  undervalue  Mr.  Kipling.  He  has  won  his  spurs  and  taken  his 
prominent  place  in  the  arena.  This,  as  the  legitimate  edition,  should  be 
preferred  to  the  pirated  ones  by  all  such  as  care  for  honesty  in  letters. — 
Churchman. 


THE    LIGHT   THAT    FAILED. 

12mo.    $1.50. 

**  The  Light  that  Failed  "  is  an  organic  whole — a  book  with  a  backbone 
— and  stands  out  boldly  among  the  nerveless,  placid,  invertebrate  things 
called  novels  that  enjoy  an  expensive  but  ephemeral  existence  in  the  circu- 
lating libraries. — Athenceum. 


MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  ^ 

\\%   FOURTH   AVENUE,  NE\A/-  YORK, 


A 


WORKS    OF    CHARLOTTE    M.   YONGE, 

AUTHOR    OF  "THE    HEIR  OF  REDCLYFFE." 


THAT    STICK. 

ISmo.     Cloth,  $1.00,    (In  the  Press.) 


NOVELS    AND    TALES. 

New  Edition.     Uniformly  bound  in  cloth  extra.     Price  per  volume,  $i.oo. 
These  books  have  been  read  with  pleasure  and  profit  by  thousands.— Standard. 
THE    HEIR   OF    REDCLYFFE.     (Illustrated.) 
HEARTSEASE;  OR,  THE  BROTHER'S  Wife.     (Illustrated.) 
HOPES  AND   FEARS,    (illustrated.) 
DYNEVOR    TERRACE.     (Illustrated.) 
THE    DAISY    CHAIN.     (Illustrated.) 

THE  TRIAL:    More  Links  of  the  Daisy  Chain.    (Illustrated.) 
PILLARS    OF   THE    HOUSE;   OR,   Under  Wode   Under   Rode. 

2  Vols.     (Illustrated.) 
THE    YOUNG    STEPMOTHER,    (illustrated.) 
THE    CLEVER   WOMAN    OF   THE    FAMILY.    (Illustrated.) 
THE    THREE    BRIDES.     (Illustrated.) 
MY    YOUNG    ALCIDES.     (Illustrated.) 
THE    CAGED     LION.     (Illustrated.) 
THE    DOVE    IN    THE    EAGLE'S    NEST.    (Illustrated.) 
THE    CHAPLET    OF    PEARLS.     (Illustrated.) 
LADY  HESTER.  AND  THE  DANVERS  PAPERS.    (Illustrated.) 
MAGNUM     BONUM.     (Illustrated.) 
LOVE    AND    LIFE.     (Illustrated.) 

UNKNOWN  TO  HISTORY.  A  Story  OF  THE  Captivity  OF  Mary 
OF  Scotland. 

STRAY  PEARLS.  MEMOIRS  OF  MARGARET  DE  RiBAUMONT,  VISCOUNT- 
ESS OF  BELAISE. 

THE   ARMOURER'S   'PRENTICES. 

THE   TWO   SIDES   OF   THE   SHIELD. 

NUTTIE'S   FATHER. 

SCENES  AND  CHARACTERS;  OR,  EIGHTEEN  MONTHS  AT  BEECH- 
CROFT. 

CHANTRY  HOUSE. 

A  MODERN  TELEMACHUS. 

BEECHCROFT  AT  ROCKSTONE. 

WOMANKIND.    A  BOOK  for  Mothers  and  Daughters. 

A    REPUTED    CHANGELING;   OR,  Three  Seventh  Years,  Two 

Centuries  Ago. 
THE  TWO  PENNILESS  PRINCESSES.    A  Story  of  the  Time  of 

James  I.  of  Scotland. 


MACMILLAN   &  CO., 

112  FOURTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK. 


WORKS   BY    ROLF   BOLDREWOOD. 


NEVERMORE.       , 

IStno.     Cloth,  $1,00.     (In  the  Press.) 


A    SYDNEY    SIDE    SAXON. 

12mo,  clotVi.     $1.00. 


ROBBERY    UNDER    ARMS. 

ISuio.     Cloth,   $1.00. 

We  have  nothing  but  praise  for  this  story.  Of  adventure  of  the  most 
stirring  kind  there  is,  as  we  have  said,  abundance.  But  there  is  more  than 
this.  The  characters  are  drawn  with  great  skill.  Every  one  of  the  gang  of 
bushrangers  is  strongly  individualized.  We  have  not  the  mere  catalogue 
of  /ori/s  Gyas  fortisque  Cloantkus,  but  genuine  men.  The  father,  a  sturdy 
Englishman,  whose  whole  nature  is  warped  by  early  influences;  the  hero, 
poor  "Jim,"  his  brother,  a  simple,  lovable  lellow  who  might  have  gone  straight 
under  happier  circumstances  ;  Starlight,  a  gentleman  by  birth  and  education, 
who  has  a  strange  story  behind  him  in  the  Old  Country ;  and,  lastly,  the  half- 
breed  Warrigal,— ar.  all  admirable  figures.  This  is  a  book  of  no  common 
literary  force. — Spectator. 

THE    MINER'S    RIGHT. 

A    TALE  OF   THE  AUSTRALIAN  GOLD-FIELDS. 

13mo.     Cloth,    »1.25. 

Full  of  good  passages,  passages  abounding  in  vivacity,  in  the  color  and 
play  of  life.  .  .  .  The  pith  of  the  book  lies  in  its  singularly  fresh  and  vivid 
pictures  of  the  humors  of  the  gold-fields  ;  tragic  humors  enough  they  are  too, 
here  and  again.  .  .  .  The  various  types  of  humanity  that  strut,  or  in  those 
days  used  to  strut,  across  that  strangest  of  the  world's  stage,  an  Australian 
gold-field,  are  capitally  touched  in,  for  Mr.  Boldrewood  can  draw  a  man  as 
well  as  tell  a  story. — World. 

THE    SQUATTER'S    DREAM. 

l3mo.     Cloth,    $1.35. 

A  story  of  Australian  life,  told  with  directness  and  force.  The  author's 
mastery  of  his  subjects  adds  much  to  the  impressiveness  of  the  story,  which 
no  doubt  might  be  told  as  literally  true  of  hundreds  of  restless  and  ambitious 
young  Australians. — JSf.  V.  Tribune. 

A    COLONIAL    REFORMER. 

12mo.     Cloth,   $1.35. 

"  Rolf  Boldrewood  "  has  written  much  and  well  on  the  Australian  colonies, 
but  chiefly  in  the  form  of  novels,  and  good  novels  they  are  too.  Tlie  Austra- 
lian scenes,  rural  and  urban,  are  vividly  described  by  Mr.  Boldrewood,  and 
there  are  atnong  the  characters  e.xamples  of  the  various  adventurers  and 
rogues  that  infest  new  countries,  which  recall  our  early  California  days. 
Whoever  wants  to  know  how  they  live  in  Australia  will  have,  the  want  &ViX>- 
\>\\t.A.— Philadelphia  Evening  Bullffin.  ■     /    *\  7   'i  «> 

^ U  K  0  ^''B^^ 

MACMILLAN   &   CO., 

112  FOURTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK, 


L  006  213  446  5 


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